InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 4: Justification ❯ So Long as She Needs Me ( Chapter 59 )

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

Bellaniece shifted from one foot to the other as she wrung her hands and bit her bottom lip, apprehension gripping her as she watched the hanyou circling her.

"Kich tells me he taught you a few things already," InuYasha said in an almost distracted tone as he prowled around her.  "Show me what you've got."

"I, uh . . . didn't really learn that much," she hedged, stumbling back in an effort to put a little more distance between the hanyou of legend and herself.  There was a fierceness, a predatory sort of vibe that radiated from InuYasha, and that vibe was enough to make Bellaniece rue the day she agreed to let him take over her defensive training.  "Come to think of it, I don't really need to learn all this, do I?"

"Don't be stupid, pup.  Self-defense is something that everyone needs to know."

"But Kichiro swore he'd protect me," she argued.

InuYasha stopped short, draping his hands on his lean hips as he slowly shook his head and made a scoffing sound that Bellaniece had heard from Kichiro before.  "Keh!  Let me tell you something, princess.  As much as my son will honor his word to protect you, there is always a chance that he won't be there, for whatever reason.  What the hell do you think you'll do if he ain't there, and some bastard decides you're a good target?"

"I'd . . . call Kichiro," she said, struck by the sudden inspiration.  "Daddy told me not to ever leave home without my cell phone, and—"

"And while you're fucking around with those buttons, your attackers will be on you like white on rice."

Bellaniece blinked.  "They . . . But I . . . No one would attack me!  Why would they?"

"For the same reason my son thought it'd be nice to service you in his office during business hours?"

Bellaniece grimaced.  "You knew about that?'

InuYasha snorted but couldn't quite contain the hint of red that filtered into his cheeks.  "That's what I get for not fucking knocking," he muttered.  "Anyway, someone who would attack you won't give a rat's ass, who your mate or your father is, so get that idea out of your head, will you?"

Bellaniece couldn't help her little giggle—sorely misplaced but entirely impossible to suppress.  "He told you he's going to be my mate?"

InuYasha rolled his eyes again.  "Yes, he did . . . Now can we get back to this?"

"Sorry," she apologized, choking back her laughter before she succeeded in irritating Kichiro's father any more than she already had.  Squealing as he lunged at her, Bellaniece hopped aside just before he managed to grab her around the waist.  

He landed behind her, skidding across the training mat as he stood up straight and nodded slowly.  "Okay, good.  At least you have decent reflexes.  Do you have to scream like a fucking girl?"

She grimaced as he flattened his ears and shook his head.  "Sorry about that, too."

"Keh.  Whatever."

"I know how to throw people," she ventured.  "Isn't that good enough?"

Turning his head as he pinned her with an incredulous scowl, InuYasha looked like he was tempted to yell at her, and Bellaniece bit her lip again.  "Throwing people?  You think that throwing people is enough?  Newsflash, pup: the chances that your attackers are going to rush you are slim to none.  You need to learn how to defend yourself from someone who's right there in your face.  Got that?"

Ignoring the tiny voice in her head that reminded her that Kichiro had said roughly the same thing, Bellaniece pasted on a bright smile and shrugged.  "What about if I promise just not to go anywhere without a big, strong hanyou to guard me?"

"What . . .?  Oh, that's a bunch of shit, and you know it, princess.  Kich told me about your other . . . problem."

"Problem?" she echoed, shaking her head in confusion.

InuYasha's cheeks reddened to match his nondescript sweatshirt.  "Yeah, the clothes you refuse to wear."

"He told you that?"

InuYasha snorted.

"Is there anything he didn't tell you?"

"Yeah.  He didn't tell me that you don't fucking shut up."

Bellaniece blushed at that and snapped her mouth closed on her next question as InuYasha hunkered down to strike again.

"She blushes when you say she don't shut up but don't care if you saw her getting a Kich implant?  That's fucked up, no doubt about it."

Bellaniece narrowed her glare at the new arrival as Ryomaru strode into the dojo.  "I shut up just fine, thank you," she began hotly.

"Oh yeah?  Let's see it, Grabby-chan."

Snapping her mouth closed at the nickname that Ryomaru insisted on using for her, Bellaniece resolved to ignore the irritating hanyou if it was the last thing she did.

"Thought you were gone hunting," InuYasha remarked, ignoring his son's more colorful commentary.

"Keh!  Against a gecko-youkai?  You've gotta be kidding!"

InuYasha nodded slowly.  "Good, then you can help me."

"Help you?"

"Yep.  Attack her, will you?"

"Against her?  Keh!  I use pitiful excuses of hanyous like her to floss my teeth," he scoffed.

"Oh, do you?" Bellaniece growled.  "I think I'll enjoy throwing you around."

"If you really think you can."

"It'll be my pleasure."

"Yeah, bring it, Grabby-chan."

Ryomaru lunged at Bellaniece.  Instead of screaming and jumping out of the way, she caught his outstretched hand and flicked her wrist, sending the hanyou flying over her head.  Landing flat on his back a good twenty feet behind her, Bellaniece dusted her hands off and crossed her arms over her chest as she allowed herself a smug little grin at her accomplishment.

Ryomaru sprang to his feet and snorted.  "I could have countered that if I'd wanted to hurt you," he scoffed.

"What's the matter?  The big, bad youkai hunter land on his . . . ego?"

"All right, you two," InuYasha interrupted.  "That's enough."  He stood back, scratching his chin thoughtfully.  "Kich taught you that?"

Bellaniece nodded.

The unmistakable pride on the hanyou's face gave her pause, and Bellaniece couldn't help but remember Kichiro's cryptic words.  "They've always been closer, in my estimation.  Oyaji and Ryomaru . . . They were too similar not to be . . . If anything, he tried harder, I think . . . like he wanted to understand me, even if he never really has . . ."

'InuYasha . . . He's proud of Kichiro, isn't he?'

"Doesn't surprise me, none," InuYasha mused.  "Kich's always been faster than Ryo."

"Oi!"

"Keh!  Come on.  We've got more training to do," InuYasha growled.

Ryomaru stalked over to his father's side.  Bellaniece watched in unabashed fascination as the father and son discussed her training, and as she noted just how alike yet so different the Izayoi men really were.


Gin stared out the window at the crystal blue sky.  If everything was proceeding according to schedule, the plane should be touching down in about fourteen hours, and she was already getting restless.  "I'm glad I came with you," she said as she turned to peek at Cain.

Cain slouched down in his seat.  "I'm glad you did, too."

The two weeks had positively flown by.  Between museums and art galleries, sightseeing and Cain's obsession with buying a little bit of every kind of food imaginable for Gin to sample, she'd barely had time to catch her breath before he whisked her away to take her somewhere else, to show her something he thought she'd like, to feed her things she hadn't tried before.

Catching his rather far-away expression, Gin frowned.  "Are you all right?"

He shook himself and shot her a startled smile.  It was real enough, and that lessened Gin's worry though she couldn't help but wonder just what he had on his mind.  "Never better.  Why do you ask?"

"You looked a little distant," she said with a little shrug, "like you're thinking about something."

"Bellaniece is back now."

"Good.  I know you've missed her."

He nodded.  "Of course I did.  It's just . . ." he sighed, eyes darkening as he slowly shook his head.  "I not so sure I can get used to sleeping without you."

He'd brought up the one thing that Gin had been trying not to think about.  She'd known that things would change again when Bellaniece and Kichiro returned.  She was too used to having Cain right there.  The idea of being alone was entirely too depressing.  "It's not like we won't still see each other," she pointed out.

Cain mulled that over for a moment.  "There's that," he agreed.  "Or . . . I could explain things to Bellaniece."

"You . . . could?"

Frowning at the back of the cabin, he deliberately tried to look nonchalant as he caught Gin's hand and pulled her toward him.  "If I had to choose between not telling her and sleeping alone and trying to explain it to her with you beside me?  Yeah, I could."

"But do you want to?  You don't have to . . . I . . . I understand.  Well, sort of . . ."

He grimaced.  "It isn't about wanting to, and you don't have to try to understand."

"It's okay," she insisted, forcing a tiny smile.  "You could . . . You could come over to my apartment, couldn't you?  After Bellaniece goes to sleep?"

Cain looked surprised at her suggestion.  "Gin, don't make it okay for me to hide you."

"I'm not," she told him.  "I just don't want you to feel like I've ever expected more from you than you can give.  Bellaniece should come first.  She's your daughter."

"Listen . . . I have to spend the day with Bellaniece when we get home, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind having you around later."

Gin smiled.  "If you're sure."

Cain shrugged as she dug the prints from the National Enquirer pictures out of her bag.  Sesshoumaru kept the originals, but Gin had printed out the scanned copies.  The one image was just plain silly, with Cain licking off the ice cream he'd smeared on her cheek.  She was laughing as she tried to pull away from him.  He was grinning and holding onto her shoulders to prevent her escape.

The second picture, though . . . Sitting on his lap with her face buried against his chest, Gin's face wasn't visible in the shot by the duck pond.  Cain, however, was smiling, staring at her with a bemused light in his gaze.  He looked completely content, and the first time Gin had seen the image, she nearly cried.  She hadn't realized he looked at her that way, had she?  She hadn't known that he felt that way about her, after all . . . "You know, you look really happy in these," she remarked as her smile widened.

Cain plucked the pictures out of her hand and chuckled.  "So do you."

Gin leaned on his arm so she could look, too.  "Well, sure . . . But I'm glad you had a good time."

"What are you going to do with those pictures?"

Gin shrugged and tucked them back into her bag.  "I should frame them," she commented as she sat back.  "They're really good pictures, don't you think?"

"You can frame them," he agreed.  "'Course, your papa might not be too pleased when he sees them."

Gin made a face.  "I forgot about that."

"You know, I don't have a problem, telling your father about us," he remarked, a near-belligerence entering his tone.

"If you told him about us, what would you say?"

Cain shrugged as he pondered her question.  "What would you want me to say?"

Gin shook her head.  "I don't know . . . Whatever you felt was right."

He sighed and took her hand, staring at their fingers as he twined his together with hers.  "Gin . . . I'm not really sure what feels right.  I just know that being with you makes me happier than . . . than I ever thought I could be."  Drawing a deep breath, he lifted her hand to his lips, kissed her fingers as she smiled.  "So if you want me to tell your father, I will.  All you have to do is say the word."

She couldn't repress the flash of sadness that flitted over her expression before she could mask it with a bright smile.  Cain winced when he saw it, but Gin shook her head.  "That's just it.  It's not about me.  It shouldn't be about me.  I'm . . . with you because I want to be, and I don't want you to think that you owe me, because you don't."

Her answer didn't seem to make him happy.  He sighed and let his gaze roam over the dimly lit cabin.  Struggling to voice what he felt in his heart, trying to find a way to make her understand . . . "Okay, how about this?" he finally said, eyes dark, serious as he returned her stare.  "As long as you need me, Gin . . . As long as you'll have me . . . I'll stay with you."

Her answer was a squeeze on his hand, a timid smile that filled her eyes with a wondrous brightness.  "I like that," she answered, "and I'll stay with you, too."


"You've got to be kidding," Bellaniece grumbled as she stared at Kichiro in something akin to shock.  "You mean that, don't you?"

Kichiro snorted and rolled his eyes as he jerked his glasses off his face and pinned Bellaniece with a bored look.  "Yeah, yeah I do."

"You mean to tell me you care more about your precious piano than you would about our children?"

He shook his head.  "Of course not!  I just don't think it's bad to teach them that certain things aren't meant for them to mess with—my piano being one of those things."

She sighed.  The discussion had begun simply enough.  Bellaniece had set a bottle of water on the piano just for a moment while she ran to find her ringing cell phone.  Kichiro had not been pleased.  At least he'd waited until she hung up before thrusting the bottle into her hand with the explicit warning not to ever, ever set a drink on his piano again.

'Honestly, you'd think I just threatened his best friend, not just set a bottle of tepid water on his stupid piano,' Bellaniece thought.

'Well, some people are more sensitive about certain things, and apparently Kichiro has a deep affinity for his piano,' her youkai reasoned.

'That's the most ridiculous . . . Nothing should be more important than our future children!'

"Just don't do it, all right?" he growled.

"So you're telling me that you'd rather lock your precious piano away while our children are little than to let them touch it?  Are you pulling my leg?"

He shot her a rather bland sidelong look.  "There are three things in this world that I do not joke about, Belle: my family, my mate, and my piano."

Bellaniece rolled her eyes.  "At least I made that list."

"It's not like I'm saying that I'd growl at them about it.  That'd be why I'd move it."

Gaze darkening as she slowly shook her head; Bellaniece stared at him for another moment before spinning around to grab her cell phone and purse off the table behind the sofa.

"Where are you going?" he asked as he stuck his nose back to the open file in his hands.

"Home.  Goodnight."

That got his attention quickly enough.  "What?  Why?"

Bellaniece didn't falter as she strode toward the door.  "My father will be home in the morning.  I should be there when he gets home."

Kichiro caught her hand.  She hadn't heard him stand up or follow her.  "I realize your father will be home in the morning.  All the more reason why you should stay with me tonight."

Bellaniece shook her head, tugging on her hand, to no avail.  "It's not just that," she admitted.

"Then what is?  Is this still about the piano?"

She sighed.  "You never struck me as a materialistic sort of person, you know.  So your piano was expensive . . . but it's just a thing.  You . . . You acted like you were going to rip me to shreds for setting my water on it, even after I apologized.  It just makes me wonder . . . If one of our children touched it, would you yell at them for it, too?"

He grimaced, dropping her hand as he stepped back, jamming his fists into his pockets as he stared at her.  "Are you saying you don't have anything you wouldn't keep from little ones?"

"It's just stuff.  I could replace it."

Kichiro mulled her words over for several seconds before answering.  "You're right.  It's just . . . stuff."

Bellaniece stepped toward him but stopped, intercepting the deeper hint of sadness that tinged Kichiro's golden eyes.  "I wouldn't let them mess with it, you know.  I just . . . I'd rather know that you wouldn't be too angry about it, if they did."

"Okay."  He nodded and turned slightly from side to side.  "You . . . going to stay?"

Bellaniece smiled, just a little.  "I could be talked into it . . ."

"Could you?"

She didn't retreat when he started toward her, his eyes igniting in brilliant light that she recognized far too well.  "Are you going to give me a reason to stay?"

"I could do that," he agreed, catching her by the wrist and tugging her into his arms.  "Why don't you tell me what you really want?"

"You," she murmured as his lips brushed over hers.  Moaning softly as his arms slipped around her; as he squeezed her bottom, she melted against him.  "I want you."

Her words slammed through him—she could feel his body trembling as he maneuvered her backward, pinning her against the wall.  Tongue flicking against hers in a heated dance that drove away conscious thought, any sense of reason, Bellaniece shoved her hands between them, kneaded his chest muscles through the invasive fabric of his shirt.  His reply was a low groan, the pressing of his hips to hers.  He throbbed against her, goaded her silently, begged for her touch without saying a word.

Bellaniece managed the buttons of his shirt with unsteady hands, dragging her mouth away from his as she pressed hungry kisses down his chin, down his throat, down the shallow vale in the center of his chest.  His breathing echoed in the quiet foyer as his shirt fell in a whisper on the floor.  Hands tugging at his pants, she uttered an impatient growl as she rent the fabric under her claws.

"Damn," Kichiro murmured.  "Belle-chan . . ."

"I said I want you," she countered, her voice ragged, uneven.  "It's not my fault your pants hate me."

Barking out a terse laugh that melted into a groan as her lips wrapped him in absolute heat, he braced himself against the wall, body quivering as she held onto his hips, as she took him deeper, deeper . . .

Letting her dictate the rhythm of his thrusts, Kichiro couldn't think, couldn't do anything but concentrate on the centrifugal burn, the rising tide that scorched him.  Bellaniece was relentless, almost brutal.  Shuddering as her fangs grazed over him, he moaned, gasped, dug his claws into the palms of his hands to keep himself from coming undone.

Pulling her mouth away with an obscenely loud 'pop', she grinned up at him as she grasped him in both hands.  Pumping him hard, she flicked her tongue out, ran it along the ridge as he jerked in her grasp.  Moans spilling into sharp little whines, Kichiro fought the baser instincts that warred inside him.  Wanting to claim her yet knowing that she wasn't ready . . . Needing to feel her—all of her . . .

Growling in frustration when her hands dropped away from him, he forced his eyes open, leaning his forehead against the wall.  She caught his gaze, smiled sweetly, stared him in the eye as she lowered her mouth over him once more.  Caressing him with her tongue, she stroked him long, stroked him hard, and with a harsh gasp, a tattered cry, the tremors surged into painful palpitations as time and reason combined and shattered in the space of an instant.

Kichiro dropped to his knees before the delirious feelings had subsided, grabbed Bellaniece's shoulders to jerk her against him in a kiss that made her scent spike, a heady mix of wildflowers and sex.  She whimpered softly, arms wrapping around his neck as she pressed her body closer to his, her flesh scorching his.  Hooking her under her arms and tugging her to her feet, he couldn't help but smile as she swayed unsteadily.

"Spread your legs, princess," Kichiro demanded as he pinched her nipples through the sheer fabric of her thin summer dress.  She moaned but did as he instructed, head falling to the side as her eyes slid closed, as a flush of passion tinged her skin.  'One good turn deserves another,' he supposed, staring at his knuckles for a moment before shredding the material away from her body.  She gasped, eyes flashing open just for a moment, eyes darkening to nearly black as the scent of her arousal blossomed in the air.

Kichiro knelt before her, hooked her legs behind the knees to bring them over his shoulders.  Holding her still with a hand on each hip, he stopped just for a moment to stare at her.  Drawn to a point at the junction of her left leg and her torso, he stroked it with his fingertips.  Her skin seemed to throb under his scrutiny, seemed to beckon him as he moved his hand away, ignoring the primitive call that demanded to be heard.  'My mark . . .' he marveled before flicking out his tongue to touch her.

She squeaked out a half-sigh, a half-breath as he penetrated her.  Senses engulfed in the wonder of her, Kichiro scarcely discerned the scrape of the door opening, heard the sharp inhalation followed by the muttered curse.  Too enthralled in the wonder of Bellaniece's body, he didn't bother to turn around to tell his cousin to get the hell out.  The door slammed again though Kichiro had to wonder if Bellaniece had any idea about that intrusion since she was in the midst of a powerful orgasm as she screamed his name over and over.

Her fingers rubbed his ears in a steady rhythm as she ground her hips against his mouth.  Moaning, gasping, crying, she shivered.  Her skin—slick, burning, begging for him—throbbed under his ministrations.  Seeking out every part of her became a mission, a mantra.  He lost count of the times she tensed, writhed, the number of times she called out to him . . .

Breathing labored, body veiled in a sheen of perspiration, she was vaguely aware as he pushed her legs off his shoulders and caught her, laying her on the floor as he cradled her in his arms.  He savored the sounds of their hearts beating in the quiet.  Bellaniece suddenly giggled, her arms tightening around him as she nuzzled closer, seemingly unaware that they were lying on the floor just inside the door.  "What's so funny?" he finally asked.

"Nothing," she giggled louder.  "Do you suppose your cousin enjoyed the show?"

Kichiro rasped out a deep chuckle and kissed Bellaniece's forehead.  "You knew he was here?"

"Well, he did slam the door."

"That's true.  Let's hope he didn't have his pups with him."

"I didn't see them."

Kichiro laughed.  "You looked?"

Bellaniece laughed, too.  "I waved."

It was on the tip of his tongue to argue that she didn't.  He sighed.  Bellaniece didn't care that he'd seen her sunbathing without a shirt.  She didn't wear panties, and she didn't own a bra, either.  Nope, he didn't doubt that she waved at his cousin; not at all.

"I suppose we should get off the floor," he mused.  She giggled again as he stood up, lifting her off the floor and striding through the house toward the bedroom.

Her laughter died, and she let her head fall against his shoulder.  "I should go home soon . . ."

"You know, Belle . . . If you'd let me tell your father, you wouldn't have to worry about going home at night."

"We've talked about this," Bellaniece argued calmly, drawing her legs up under her but making no move to cover herself.

Kichiro heaved a long-suffering sigh.  "I know," he told her, "but I swear to kami, as soon as you turn eighteen . . ."

"And I need to shower, too," she went on, ignoring Kichiro's statements.

Growling at the implications of her words, he narrowed his gaze on her and crossed his arms over his chest.  "To get my scent off you, you mean."

She smiled.  "Don't be like that, Kichiro.  If things were different . . ."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you."  He rolled his eyes.  "When do you turn eighteen?"

Bellaniece looked surprised by his question, and she shifted her gaze away for a moment.  "Why do you ask?"

He snorted.  "Keh!  Why do you think?"

She shrugged.  "So you can tell Daddy about us, you mean?"

He nodded.

"Yeah . . . About that . . . I don't really want to tell him unless it is absolutely necessary."
"What?"

She winced at the deadly quiet of his tone.  "I want to tell him, I just . . . he won't believe you, you know?  About not wanting pups . . ."

Reigning in the desire to smash something, Kichiro growled low in his throat as he prowled around the foot of the bed.  "Belle . . ."

"Anyway, if you told him about us on my birthday . . ." She sighed.  "Please, Kichiro . . . I want to be with you; you know I do . . ."

"Well, when the hell is your birthday?"

Bellaniece sighed again.  "In about . . . thirty minutes."

Kichiro stopped mid-stride and slowly turned to stare at her before rasping out an incredulous laugh.  "That's funny.   I could have sworn you just said—"

"Twenty-nine minutes, now."

"Belle!"

She blinked at his shocked expression.  "Yes?"

"What the fuck do you mean?  Your birthday is tomorrow?"

She nodded.  "Yes."

"And you just now told me?"

"Yes."

"Did you not think it was a big deal or something?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, it isn't a big deal."

He shook his head as he flopped onto the bed beside her.  "You cannot be serious.  What do you normally do on your birthday?"

Bellaniece pondered his question as she stretched out beside him.  "Well . . . I go shopping with Daddy."

"Shopping?  What about presents?"

"I get presents.  Why do you think I go shopping?"

"Does your father wrap them?"

She shot him a rather condescending look.  "Why would he do that when I know what he bought me?"

"Did he used to wrap your presents?"

"No . . ."

Kichiro snorted.  "What about cake?  Ice cream?  Candles?"

"Sometimes . . . sometimes . . . and no."

"No, never?"

Bellaniece giggled.  "You make it sound like a fate worse than death.  I happen to have fond memories of my birthday, I'll have you know."  She leaned up on her elbow to kiss him before slipping off the bed and sauntering toward the bathroom, humming 'Happy Birthday to You' under her breath.

Kichiro scowled at the doorway.

It didn't make sense.  As much as he disliked Zelig Cain, he'd have to be the first to admit that the man really had been a remarkable father.  It seemed odd, then.  From what Bellaniece had admitted, it didn't seem like she'd ever had much in the way of a real birthday party . . .

He sighed, dropping back on the bed as he stared at the ceiling, as he heard the gurgle of the bathroom pipes.  Brushing aside the acute irritation that she really was washing off his scent, Kichiro snorted.  He'd learned early on that the sooner one bathed after intimate contact, the less likely they were to pick up the scent of the other, which was why Bellaniece never seemed to waste time in taking a shower.  Since Bellaniece didn't want to tell her father just yet, she was adamant about showering, and that just figured.  If she started to smell like him, Cain might have a clue, and Kichiro wouldn't have to worry about her having to tell him, either.

Still the main concern on his mind was the idea that Bellaniece hadn't told him about her birthday for whatever reason.  It didn't sit well with him.  He was going to be her mate, right?  Mates ought to know stuff like that, damn it.

'No birthday?  We'll see about that . . .'