InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 5: Phantasm ❯ Setting Her Straight ( Chapter 34 )

~*~*~*~*~*~Lemon warning~*~*~*~*~*~

 

There is no clean version of this chapter. You've been warned.

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

~~Chapter 34~~

~Setting Her Straight~

 

“Why don't you put that stuff away and pay attention to me?”

 

Izayoi Kichiro peered up from the research file he was looking over to meet the deep blue gaze of his mate. Propped up on her elbow as she lay provocatively on her side, she smiled sweetly and reached out to run a finger down the center of his chest.

 

“Okay,” he agreed simply. “That's enough research for me.”

 

Izayoi Bellaniece giggled softly, her hair falling around her in a golden bronze wave. Kichiro set the file on the nightstand and rolled over, grabbing his wife and forcing her back, his knee slipping between her bare legs. “Something you wanted, lover?” she asked, her eyes narrowing as a coquettish grin surfaced.

 

“Oh, I can think of a thing or two,” he parried, nipping her earlobe playfully

 

She shivered, gasping as his teeth razed her senses. “I'll be your bitch, Kichiro.”

 

“Damn straight, you will be . . .”

 

The trill of Kichiro's cell phone broke the pleasant idyll. Heaving a sigh, he reached for the device, glancing at the clock and heaving a sigh. `Eleven at night, and the phone's ringing?' He snorted. “It damn well better be an emergency,” he growled, frowning at the caller ID screen. “Balls . . . it's your brother.”

 

“Evan?” Belle questioned. “He ought to know better . . . call him back later. Music questions can wait. I can't.”

 

Kichiro shook his head and caught Belle's roaming hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss her quickly. “Nope, it's Bas.”

 

“Bas?” Belle echoed, sitting up straight, her attention peaking. “Oh, you have to answer that, then.”

 

Kichiro nodded as he hit the `connect' button. That particular brother was much more reserved than Evan was, and maybe even a little afraid of Belle and her penchant for saying outrageous things. While obvious that he held his family in the highest of regard, Bas also tended to have a lot more of his father in him than Belle ever had, and because of that, he hardly ever called them. No, there was no mistaking his intention, either. Had he wanted to talk to Belle, he would have called her cell phone instead of Kichiro's . . . “Bas? Everything all right?”

 

“Yeah, sort of . . . not really.”

 

Frowning at his brother-in-law's elusive answer, Kichiro cleared his throat. “What's up?”

 

“Well, see—” Bas cut himself off and snorted. “Wait . . . Belle's not listening, is she?”

 

Kichiro glanced at his wife, who was still sitting up straight, staring at him rather expectantly. “Nope.”

 

“Are you sure?” Bas demanded.

 

Belle reached for the phone. Kichiro waved her off, smashing his finger against his lips, warning her to be quiet. “She's . . . sleeping,” he replied, slipping an arm around his naked wife and covering her mouth with his hand.

 

Bas sighed. “Good . . . I, uh, had a question about, um . . . sex . . .”

 

Kichiro hid his surprise under a strategically placed cough. “Okay, let's hear it.”

 

“You . . . you're a doctor, right?”

 

“Last time I checked,” he teased. “Tell me what you need.”

 

Bas sighed again. “Is it . . . how much . . . women shouldn't . . .?”

 

Belle reached up and turned the cell phone so that she could eavesdrop better. Kichiro shook his head at her but didn't readjust the receiver. “Women shouldn't . . .?” he prompted.

 

“They . . . shouldn't . . . bleed . . . after . . . sex . . . should they?” Bas finally mumbled.

 

“Bleed?” Kichiro echoed. “Depends . . . was she a virgin?”

 

“Yeah,” Bas admitted. In his mind, Kichiro could almost see Sebastian's face, all contorted in a self-conscious grimace. With as quiet as he tended to be, the fact that he was asking Kichiro anything pertaining to sex meant that it really was bothering him, after all. “She . . . was, but . . . I mean, she bled a lot the first time, and now . . .” He sighed for the third time. “She . . . bled . . . again.”

 

“How much blood are we talking here?” Kichiro asked carefully, waving a hand at Belle, who was trying to tug the phone out of his hand. “A few drops? Sometimes a woman might bleed the second time, but that's fairly rare . . .”

 

“More,” Bas grumbled miserably. “Damn it.”

 

“How much more?”

 

“I don't know . . . a lot more . . .”

 

Kichiro grimaced, loathe to ask yet needing more knowledge than Bas was giving. “Look, Bas, I want to help you, but I need a little more information here.”

 

“Well, you know-more.” Bas let out a deep breath. “Wait, I have a picture . . .”

 

Kichiro frowned. “You have a picture of the stain?”

 

Bas snorted. “Gunnar . . . I was asking him, and he wanted to know . . . anyway, hold on.”

 

“Bleeding?” Belle whispered. “Well, most women do bleed the first time.”

 

“Quiet, you,” Kichiro mouthed back, covering the receiver with his hand. “If Bas knows you're listening, he'll never talk to me again.”

 

Belle made a show of rolling her eyes but snapped her mouth closed before rummaging around in the drawer of her nightstand for a small tablet of paper and a black ink pen.

 

A little beep from the phone announced the arrival of the picture. Kichiro lowered the phone to examine the photo only to suck in his breath and grimace at the image of the blood-stained sheet. “Balls,” he muttered. “No wonder he's concerned . . .”

 

Belle leaned over and wrinkled her nose as she stared at the picture, too. Another picture came through, and Kichiro sighed. The stain wasn't quite as big, but it was still more than should have been there for a first time, let alone a second, in his estimation.

 

“Is he rushing her?” Belle asked automatically.

 

“Was that my sister?” Bas demanded.

 

“Talking in her sleep,” Kichiro lied glibly, waving a hand at his mate with a scowl. “Bas . . . I have to ask . . . are you taking your time with her?”

 

Bas growled. “Taking my time?”

 

Kichiro scowled, unable to think of a delicate way to phrase his next question. “Yes, taking your time. Do the two of you engage in foreplay before you try to enter her?”

 

Bas' inhalation was so sharp, it whistled. “I don't . . . I mean, she . . . she won't wait, and . . . it's not normal, is it?”

 

“No,” Kichiro admitted slowly. “It looks like . . . Listen, Bas, just hear me out. Did she seem . . . ready . . . both times you had sex?”

 

“I thought she was,” he mumbled. “I thought . . . oh, hell.”

 

Kichiro grimaced. “No, I mean, was she—for lack of a nicer term—wet when you made your move?”

 

“That's just it,” Bas grumbled. “She . . . gets impatient, and—”

 

“You mean she rushes you?”

 

“W—I—she . . . yes.”

 

“I see . . .” Kichiro frowned, lowering the phone again to stare thoughtfully at the pictures. `She's doing this . . . to herself? Why?'

 

`Slow her down,' Belle scribbled on the tablet and poked Kichiro's shoulder. He nodded, bringing the phone up to his head again. Belle reached over and tilted the receiver once more. Kichiro shot her another warning glance.

 

“Listen, Bas. You need to slow her down. I'm not sure why she'd trying to rush you, but it sounds to me like she'd just not wet enough to receive you. You're a big boy, so—”

 

Bas' growl cut him off. “Damn it . . .”

 

Kichiro slowly shook his head. “Hold on; don't get angry, okay? You are a big boy, and because you are, you have to make sure that she's really, really ready for you. I'm assuming you're using condoms at the moment, and condoms tend to be a little more abrasive for a female than not using one. If you're not careful, you're just going to keep hurting her. You don't want to hurt her again, right?”

 

Bas erupted in a fierce, albeit low, growl. “Fuck, no.”

 

“Well, then take your time with her.” Kichiro waved a hand a Belle, pushing her notepad away despite her irritated scowl. “Look, a female body is engineered to be beautiful. You think she's beautiful, right?”

 

“Of course I do.”

 

“Then take the time to show her. Women are designed to attract men, and all those things that attract you should make you want to explore them. All those parts you like looking at? Touch them . . . kiss them . . . lick them.”

 

Belle scribbled words onto her tablet and shoved it under her mate's nose. `Nibble them,' she mouthed. Kichiro shook his head.

 

“It's not that,” Bas grumbled. “It's just . . . she . . . touches me, and I . . . well, I can't think when she does.”

 

Kichiro nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think most of us have problems with that, to start with. Anyway, think about it: you like it when she touches you, don't you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then it stands to reason that she would like the same, don't you think? In fact, I'd say that women need to be touched more than men do, and longer than men do. If you can't think when she's touching you, then you need to ensure that you can think. I assume we're discussing the cat-youkai? Sydnie?”

 

“Yes,” Bas ground out.

 

`She's gorgeous!' Belle scrawled then uttered an involuntary squeal of delight.

 

“Belle's listening, isn't she?”

 

“Belle? Nope . . . out like a light,” Kichiro remarked, slapping his hand over Belle's mouth again. “Is she as small as she looks?”

 

Bas grunted. “Taller than Mom . . . maybe a little skinnier.”

 

“I thought so. Look . . . women's tissue is much more delicate, especially the tissue in her vagina. If she's not completely ready, she'll tear, and it sounds like that's what's been happening.”

 

“Tear?” Bas rasped out, the recrimination heavy in his voice.

 

“If she's ready for you, you won't have to worry about that. Take your time, and once you're inside her, give her a minute or two to accommodate you. Her body will loosen up a little—enough to ensure she won't be hurt, but for the first few times, just take it slowly.”

 

“Take it slowly. Okay, I can do that.” He sighed. “If I can get her to hold still . . .”

 

“Yeah, well . . . you're definitely stronger than her, right? Just make her hold still, if you have to. You can be forceful without being overbearing.”

 

`Tie her up!' Belle wrote. Kichiro narrowed his eyes at her and shook his head.

 

“But how would I know if she's ready?”

 

Kichiro finally grinned, pulling Belle closer against his side. “Make her beg.”

 

“What?”

 

“Make her beg for you. Instinct should let you know when she's ready enough . . . or you could touch her. If she's wet enough, you'll be wet, too. You'll feel it. Hell, you'll smell it. Call it natural lubrication, if you want. That's all it is.”

 

Bas sighed again.

 

“Just touch her and touch her and touch her some more. There's no shame in enjoying her body. Make her enjoy the act as much as you do.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Oh, and Bas?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

Kichiro took his time, deliberately choosing his words. “You might want to try to find out why she would think that being hurt is normal, because it sounds to me as though she might believe that.”

 

“Yeah,” Bas mumbled. “I sort of thought that, too.”

 

“She your mate?”

 

“She will be.”

 

“Then you definitely want her to enjoy sex.”

 

“I know.”

 

“My best advice?”

 

“Okay.”

 

Kichiro broke into a wide grin, tugging the notepad out of Belle's hand and tossing it across the room. “Follow your nose. If it smells good, it tastes good, and if it tastes good to you, it feels good to her. Oral sex is a wonderful thing. I highly suggest you try that.”

 

Belle cuddled against him, her hand stroking him in silent approval of his advice. He slipped his hand behind her head and gently pushed her down. She shot him a sly grin as she gripped him and slowly ran her tongue up and down the length of him.

 

“Thanks, Kich . . . would you mind . . .? I mean, could you just not . . .?”

 

“I won't tell Belle a thing,” he agreed. “Call me back if you need anything else.”

 

“Yeah, okay. Thanks again.”

 

Clicking off his phone, Kichiro let it drop from his fingers over the side of the bed.

 

Belle leaned up on her elbows to look at him. “My poor baby brother!” she crooned.

 

“He'll be fine,” Kichiro insisted. “Now, where were you?”

 

Belle giggled, wrapping her hands around him, pumping him up and down. “I believe you were about to fuck me, lover.”

 

Kichiro grinned then groaned as she slid her mouth over him, sucking him gently as she massaged his balls. “You suck my cock, and then we'll talk, princess.”

 

“Can you think when I'm touching you?”

 

He chuckled. “Oh, hell, no . . .”

 

She giggled. “Good . . .”

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Frowning slightly as he stared over Sydnie's head at the crackling logs charring on the huge brick fireplace, Bas pondered Kichiro's advice for what had to be the thousandth time since he'd gotten off the phone with his brother-in-law-slash-uncle hours ago.

 

“Follow your nose. If it smells good, it tastes good, and if it tastes good to you, it feels good to her. Oral sex is a wonderful thing. I highly suggest you try that.”

 

Sound advice, he figured. Truthfully, he'd wanted to touch Sydnie more. Trouble was, as he had told Kichiro, he just couldn't think when she touched him, even if she were only touching his shoulders or chest. She made him feel so good that conscious thought was damn near impossible. Thing was, how to get her to stop, at least long enough for him to make sure that she enjoyed making love as much as he did?

 

`Damn it . . .'

 

`Come on, Bas, it's not that difficult. You can hold her down, can't you?'

 

His frown darkened. `Hold her down? Yeah, but . . .'

 

`It's not forever, you know. Just long enough to show her what it really ought to be. You want that for her; you want that for you. Even if she doesn't like it to start with, she will, in the end.'

 

“Do we have to leave here?” Sydnie asked quietly, snuggling against Bas' chest.

 

He sighed. “Yeah . . . we should get moving in the morning.”

 

“I knew you'd say something like that,” she grumbled.

 

“How are you feeling?” he asked gently, stroking her hair, smiling at the way it cascaded around her, pooling on the crisp, white sheets and veiling her naked body in the warm glow of the dancing flames.

 

“Fine,” she assured him with an impish smile. “You know, you could sleep naked, too.”

 

He grimaced when she slipped her hands under the waistband of his boxer shorts. “Sydnie, stop,” he said, carefully grabbing her hands to pull them away and kissing her knuckles.

 

“Kitty wants to play, puppy,” she purred.

 

Bas shook his head and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her securely against his chest. “Not this time, baby.”

 

Grimacing at the upset that flitted across her features, Bas kissed her forehead and sighed. “I mean, this time, we're doing things my way,” he explained. “Okay?”

 

“Your way?” she echoed, shaking her head as confusion clouded her eyes. “What do you mean, your way?”

 

He smiled shyly, a little apologetically. “I mean I want you to let me touch you, and I don't want you to move.”

 

“But . . . I don't understand,” she murmured, cheeks pinking as she shook her head.

 

“Sydnie . . . baby . . . I want you to enjoy this as much as I do,” he insisted. “And you will, I promise.”

 

“I already do,” she said quietly. “I like being with you.”

 

Bas' gaze narrowed, and he winced. “You don't,” he replied, “but you will. I just don't want to hurt you again, okay?”

 

“You can't hurt me, puppy.”

 

“That's a lie, and we both know it. Let me do this my way.”

 

“Your way? What does that mean?”

 

Catching her fingers as she traced little circles on his chest, Bas sighed. “That means I don't want you to touch me. Just . . . lay here and let me touch you . . . okay?”

 

“You . . . don't like it when I . . . touch you?”

 

“No, no . . .” He grimaced at the instantaneous flash of hurt that registered in her expression. “I love it when you touch me, but I just can't think straight when you do. Sydnie . . . you're supposed to enjoy this. That's all. Do you understand?”

 

She wrinkled her nose and scrunched up her shoulders. “I do enjoy it, silly.”

 

“You don't,” he countered softly.

 

“I—”

 

“You bled, Sydnie! You're not supposed to bleed! I don't want to hurt you, damn it! I can't hurt you like that!”

 

“But—”

 

Bas snorted belligerently and stubbornly shook his head. “If you can't keep still, cat, I swear to God, I'll . . . I'll . . . I'll slap the handcuffs on you. See if I don't.”

 

Her mouth dropped open as a gasp escaped her. “You wouldn't!”

 

He quirked an eyebrow. “Try me.” Sparing a moment to kiss her forehead, he pushed her aside and stood up, crossing the floor to dig the condoms out of his coat pocket, and grabbing the handcuffs for good measure.

 

Sydnie's eyes flared at the sight of the handcuffs dangling from his fingers and scowled. “You keep those away from me, Bas the Hunter!” she warned.

 

He dropped them along with the condoms onto the nightstand. “All right, kitty . . . just keep your hands to yourself, and I won't use them.”

 

Her expression shifted into a petulant pout. “I don't think I like you very much,” she whimpered.

 

Bas sank down on the edge of the bed and pulled her into his lap. “I know, baby, and I'm sorry.”

 

Still she allowed him to tilt her chin up, didn't try to fight him when he slowly kissed her lips. Stroking her cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs, Bas brushed his lips over hers in a delicate whisper of a tender caress. She sighed softly, her hands balled into fists that she obediently kept in her lap. Gently sucking her lower lip, Bas felt her shudder in his arms. Her mouth fell open as her head rolled back, exposing the softest skin of her neck. The submissive gesture was not lost on Bas, and he stifled a sharp growl, a predatory sound—the sound of inu-youkai domination. Kissing his way along her jaw line, down the soft incline to settle over the fluttering pulse in her throat, he couldn't resist the desire to kiss her, to touch her, to taste her.

 

Sucking on her soft skin until the flesh took on a rosy hue, he uttered a low growl. She whimpered in response. Catching her wrist as she tried to slip her arm around his neck, Bas kissed her hand, her wrist, her forearm. Her pulse raced in his ears; the soothing sound of her rapid respirations echoing in his ears, burning in his veins. Letting go of her hand, trailing his claws along the sunken flesh above her collarbones, he took his time, reveling in the compelling velvet of her skin, reeling in the knowledge that every goose bump, every shiver, every little mew that slipped from her lips were because of him: his touch, his attention.

 

The gentle slope of her breast . . . the flushed peak of her nipples . . . Catching her under her arms, he lifted her up, supported her, held her close as her knees slipped down on either side of his thighs. Flicking out his tongue, tentatively tasting the hardened nub, he could smell the deepening of her scent as she cried out, her fingers biting into his shoulders, claws digging into his flesh. An innate knowledge shocked him even as he grimaced, letting her nipple spring free from his mouth. He wasn't hurting her; this he knew. The scent of his blood burned his nose, and with a sigh, a grimace, he laid her on the bed.

 

The click of the handcuffs on her delicate wrists echoed in the quiet like the report of a shotgun. Sydnie gasped, tugging at her hands, but he'd looped the chain through the spindles on the headboard. She whimpered softly, pulled against the restraints. Bas leaned over her, bearing his weight on his elbows, his hands wrapped around her breasts. Squeezing gently, he groaned, closing his eyes as he let his mouth fall over her nipple again. She sucked in a sharp breath, her body arching off the mattress. Bas' body pinned hers in place, holding her still despite her whines of protest. The heat of her seared through his abdomen as she opened her legs, wrapped them around him, pressing herself against him, her body undulating, shivering; pushed to the cusp of her shaky control.

 

Kissing his way to her other nipple, Bas licked it, sucked it, long, slow strokes of his tongue. The smoothness of her skin erupted in goose bumps. He soothed them away with balmy kisses, with gentle insistence. Dragging his hands down the length of her body, feeling the contours: the hollows, the rises, Bas groaned softly, breathing harsh, heavy, living and dying by the sounds of her quiet entreaties. Her skin seemed to leap under his touch, demanding then retreating, her body desperately trying to contain the rioting sensations caused by his touch.

 

Moisture, heat, a visceral burn singed him deep as the throbbing in his body soared into a painful ache. Reaching back to stroke her leg, he coaxed her into relaxing them as he trailed lethargic kisses down her breasts, down her belly. Delving the tip of his tongue into her belly button, dragging his teeth over the taunt flesh, he savored the feel of her as she mewled, keening softly, the rattle of the chain harsh in his ears. His body shook, the edges of his self-control fraying. Her scent beckoned him closer, drawing him in on invisible strings, a vortex of desire wound so tightly that any sudden movement could shatter him completely.

 

Kissing his way along the sharp angle of her hips, down along the shallow vale that converged in the thin line of auburn curls, Bas let his tongue dart out, tasting the salty flesh, inhaling the scent of her that was driving him insane. Slipping his arms under her thighs, lifting her pelvis off the bed, Bas lowered his face, kissed her deep, his tongue parting the satiny folds of her overheated skin. She gasped, bucked, cried out his name, her body trembling, shaking, her knees falling open wider, inviting him deeper as he breathed her in, his body tense, straining.

 

She babbled incoherent words, the sounds of her laughter mingled with the stilted sound of her tears. Rising against him, thighs wet, slick, she thrust against his lips, his tongue, the chain straining hard enough to make the headboard creak. Searching out every secret part of her, reveling in the taste of her, he felt the surge of pride, the inebriating realization that Sydnie was touching the moon . . .

 

“P-please,” she gasped, half-sobbing, half-demanding. “Please . . .”

 

Bas ignored her pleas, his finger sliding deep inside her. She whimpered and thrust against him, her body convulsing around her as he flicked the tip of his tongue over the swollen bud that seemed to call out to him.

 

She jerked, her body rigid, tense. Back arching, letting her head fall against the pillows, she gasped, cried, whined. Bracing her feet against the mattress, she rose, higher and higher, only to collapse once more, trembling, sobbing.

 

Pausing long enough to press one last kiss on her, Bas sat up, discarding his boxers and reaching for a condom. Sydnie whimpered at the loss of his body heat, and with a tender little grin, he smoothed the condom down before carefully positioning himself over her again.

 

“Open your eyes, Sydnie,” he whispered. She shook her head but finally managed to do as he said. Eyes half-closed, green darkened to a smoldering burn, she gazed at him, her breathing heavy, her breasts heaving as he leaned down to kiss her. Cradling her leg, rubbing her thigh, Bas shuddered as the head of his penis slipped between her folds of skin. She gasped, body tensing, and he drew back with a frown. She thought he was going to hurt her, didn't she? Bas nearly whined as the knowledge solidified. Every muscle in her body was tight, strained, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from pulling away.

 

Telling himself that he wouldn't hurt her, chanting it over and over again like a mantra, Bas shushed her quietly, gently rubbed her hips as he nuzzled against her neck. Uttering a low wuffing sound, he felt her slowly relax. If she understood the sound or simply reacted to his touch, Bas wasn't sure. In the end, it was enough. Making sure that she was thoroughly relaxed, he pressed himself into her with maddening slowness and absolute ease. It hadn't been that way before, had it? The fluid motion that seemed so right hadn't been there the other times. Sydnie gasped, eyes flashing open, staring at Bas with something akin to wonder.

 

Holding himself completely still, he closed his eyes, letting his forehead fall against hers. She lifted her pelvis, ground them against his. With a ragged groan, he grasped her hips and held her still, gently but firmly. She growled in protest, and he shook his head, wondering just how long he could stand to be still while her body convulsed around him.

 

“It . . . hurts,” she whimpered. “Please . . .”

 

He winced and pushed himself up on his elbows, scowling at her in the semi-darkness. “Hurts?” he echoed, immediately starting to pull out of her.

 

She locked her feet around his waist, drawing him back in a sudden thrust. She groaned quietly and shook her head. “Don't stop,” she whispered. “Oh, God, don't stop . . .”

 

And he understood. He wasn't hurting her, not really. She was talking about that ache, the consuming ache that was ravaging him, as well. Extending his hands over her head, twining his fingers with hers, he swallowed hard, drawing on the last of his tattered resolve, slowly thrusting inside her, kissing her softly, completely. Her body moved against his, matching his rhythm with one of her own. Her heart hammered against his chest, her fingers tightening on his hands.

 

She opened and closed around him, drawing him deeper into her heat, her moisture. She moaned, the purr he knew so well surging out of her in ragged uneven rasps. Her tongue stroked his as her body locked around him, goading him to quicken his thrusts in a powerful syncopation of tactile sensation. Arching against him, breasts crushed under the weight of him, she strained against him, her legs falling to his sides. Bracing herself against the bed, she lifted her pelvis, crying out when the power of his movements slammed her down against the mattress only to rise again to meet him halfway.

 

He hung on as long as he could. The desire to make it last just a little longer dissipating as the last threads of his control snapped and dissolved. Tearing his mouth away from hers, he called out her name as the violent explosion of heat and light and energy spun away from him, obliterating everything except her—how much she meant to him, how much he loved her. Somewhere in the back of his mind he understood as she tightened around him, as she shuddered beneath him, that this time had been different: beautiful. With one last thrust, one ragged cry, he collapsed against her, gathered her close, throbbed inside her; completely spent and yet somehow entirely content.

 

The soft tick of the clock on the nightstand was the first thing to register in Bas' addled brain. The second thing was the metallic rattle of the handcuff chains, and Sydnie's stifled whine. Rolling over to grab the key off the nightstand, Bas made quick work of unhooking the cuffs and letting them fall away. Almost immediately, she was wrapped around him, burying her face against his chest as she sniffled and babbled words he couldn't make out. Grimacing as he realized that he really needed to get rid of the condom, he gave in, letting her have her way, at least for the moment as he rubbed her back and stroked her hair. “You okay, baby?”

 

She nodded, clutching his shoulders and heaving a sigh. “I guess I can like you again now, puppy,” she allowed. He grinned at the slightly sulking tone in her sing-song voice.

 

“I'm sorry, kitty,” he said with a wince. “You know, right? You're supposed to enjoy making love . . . you're supposed to enjoy it a lot.”

 

“I did,” she allowed almost grudgingly. She snuggled close for a moment then sat up.

 

“Where are you going?” he called after her as she darted toward the bathroom.

 

Sydnie waved her hand over her shoulder but didn't answer.

 

Leaning up on his elbows as he scowled at her hasty retreat, Bas' eyes widened when she re-emerged moments later with a wet washcloth and a brilliant smile. The smile widened as she carefully slipped the used condom off him and carefully washed him clean.

 

Bas grinned and let her do as she pleased, waiting until she slipped back into the bed before he pulled her into his arms again, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her nose as she snuggled against him. “You want a bath, baby?”

 

She yawned and cuddled closer. “In a bit,” she agreed.

 

He chuckled. “Sydnie . . . why would you think that you weren't supposed to enjoy it?”

 

She stiffened slightly but didn't try to pull away. “I did enjoy it,” she maintained.

 

“Sydnie . . .”

 

“No, I did . . . the beginning was good, and the after was great . . . and you enjoyed the rest of it. That was enough, wasn't it?”

 

Bas snorted. “No, cat, it wasn't. I want you to like being with me. Don't you understand that?”

 

“I . . .” She sighed. “I do.”

 

He sighed, too, but relented. Unwilling to ruin the feeling of closeness, he pushed aside the rest of his questions. They could wait, couldn't they?

 

He yawned. Sydnie snuggled closer, the first rumbles of her contented purring bringing a smile to his lips.

 

“One day,” he murmured, closing his eyes as sleep beckoned. “I'll understand you.”

 

“Maybe,” Sydnie agreed absently. “Maybe.”

 

 

~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~ *~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~

A/N:

Thank the Chat Girls for ensuring enough `encouragement' via the review boards to convince me to post this chapter early… I hope you all enjoy!

== == == == == == == == == ==

Reviewers

==========

MMorg

inuyashaloverr ------ angelfire777 ------ Simonkal of Inuy ------ NekoKamiFL ------ Rawben ------ futekioosha ------ OROsan0677 ------ artemiswaterdragon ------ RisikaFox ------ FireDemon86 ------ inyoukaimama ------ lifeguardchick ------ Kuramas gurl ------ ErinBerin ------ dragonmage06

==========

Final Thought fromSydnie:

…Wow …

==========

Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Phantasm): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.

 

~Sue~