InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 6: Shameless ❯ Jillian's Way ( Chapter 26 )

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

 

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

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

~~Chapter 26~~

~Jillian's Way~

 

 

 

Gavin backed away from Jillian, a little worried about the uncanny light that burned behind her pale gaze despite the low burn that he could feel creeping over him as he watched in mute fascination while she slowly, methodically stepped toward him. “We can't—I mean, I should—”

 

“Twenty years, Gavin Jamison,” she said softly, kicking off her sandals and reaching up to slowly unbutton the white blouse she wore.

 

Gavin gulped, willing himself not to watch as she worked the buttons. He couldn't look away. He was doomed. “I know,” he said, his tone tinged with a husky quality as his eyes widened. `Oh, God . . .' He swallowed again. “It's just that I should ask your father . . .”

 

“I've been telling Daddy for years that you were going to be my mate. It'd be rather anti-climactic to ask him now, don't you think?”

 

The blouse dropped on the floor. The sound of the zipper on the side of her skirt rattled through him, and he watched in mute fascination as that fell away, too.

 

“B-but everyone knows,” he insisted weakly, backing away slowly as she sauntered toward him. Reaching up behind her back, she opened the clasps on her bra and shrugged it off. Her breasts sprang free—those incredibly high, deep pink nipples contracted under his scrutiny, and he'd almost forgotten exactly why he was protesting at all . . .

 

“And they're very happy for us,” she intoned, reaching up to run her hands down her sides, over her breasts, into the waistband of her little white panties. A little sound not unlike a soft purr escaped her, and her eyes closed for a moment. Her scent hit him hard, and when she opened her eyes, he could see the brightness of passion awash in her gaze. Hooking those panties with her thumbs, she pushed them over her hips, past her knees, down the length of her legs, letting them fall to the floor before she stepped out of them and kicked them aside with her toes.

 

“Damn,” he breathed, dropping to his knees before her, wrapping his arms around her waist, burying his face against the taut flesh of her belly. Her skin burned him, but he didn't let go. Pressing wet kisses everywhere he could reach, he groaned as her scent infiltrated his very pores; as the essence of her twined with him. Kneeling in front of him, she tugged at his shirt, allowing their bodies to separate just long enough to pull his shirt over his head before she yanked at his jeans impatiently.

 

“I . . . I've never done . . . this sort of thing . . . before,” Gavin rasped out as Jillian leaned away to tug on the fly of his jeans.

 

“That's okay,” she said with an impish little grin just before she jerked the button open and slid down the zipper. “Neither have I.”

 

“Y-you haven't?”

 

She shook her head. “When I was supposed to do that when all the while I was waiting for you?”

 

“You—God!” he hissed, head falling back when she slipped her hand into his pants and squeezed him gently. “J-Jilli . . .”

 

She didn't let up. Shifting her hand, she stroked him, stuffing her other hand down his jeans to massage his balls. “My mate,” she nearly purred as she let her eyes drift closed. His body trembled uncontrollably, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from coming completely undone.

 

Pulling her hand away, she rose up on her knees to push against his shoulders. He fell back on the floor, unable to do more than stare at her as she slipped her fingers into the waistband of his jeans, catching his underpants, before sliding them down his legs. He lifted his hips to help her—at least, he thought he did. There was just something out seeing Jillian completely naked and kneeling between his legs . . .

 

She crawled up over him, her body caressing his as her hair dragged over his overheated skin. The sensation was more than he could stand. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he rolled to the side, pinning her down and kissing her soundly before she got a chance to protest. Her lips opened to him, inviting him, and he flicked his tongue out to taste her. She shuddered under him; her knees parted. Slipping between her thighs with a ragged groan, he felt the heat of her body beckoning him. Lifting her hips against him, she moaned softly, asking for things that he understood because he wanted them, too.

 

Her baby soft skin fired with his touch. Running his hands up and down her sides, he couldn't repress the slight growl of ownership that slipped from him as he rose up on his elbows to take in the sight of her. She whimpered at the loss of his body heat, and he gasped when she stared up at him through her heavily-lidded eyes. Lips slack, breath coming in short little gasps, she blushed lightly under his scrutiny before reaching down, slipping her hands between their bodies to latch onto him once more.

 

With a low groan, he let his forehead fall against hers, squeezing his eyes closed as he struggled for a semblance of control. “God,” he gritted out as he jerked involuntarily in her hands, “stop . . . You've got to stop . . .”

 

She squeezed him a little tighter, unleashing a sharp constricting of his muscles. Every part of him craved her, and yet . . . and yet he wanted to take his time, too.

 

The need to taste her, to kiss her, warred with the animalistic lust that raged through his veins. Lowering his lips, nuzzling against her neck, he licked her skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses all over her throat and shoulders; along the ridges of her collar bones, into the shallow vales of her flesh. Letting go of him with a sharp gasp, she arched her back, smashing her breasts against his chest, holding tight to him, unwilling to let him go.

 

He'd fantasized about this far too many times to let himself go. Too many nights spent in sleepless wonder as she cuddled so very close to his side, and she'd always been just a little out of his reach . . . Now that he was there with her—really with her—he desperately had to know everything about her—everything he'd never allowed himself to find out before . . .

 

She slipped a delicate claw under the rubber band that secured his hair at the nape of his neck, and with a deft little tug, his hair tumbled over his shoulders; startling against the backdrop of her paler skin. Sinking her fingers into his hair, she clung to him as he trailed kisses down the center of her chest, up the rise of her breasts. Her heart hammered so loudly against her ribcage that he could hear it resounding in his ears, mingling and merging with his own heartbeat until he couldn't tell where hers ended and his began. She tasted like the rain on his lips; she surged against him like the waves on the ocean rolling onto the shore.

 

Lowering his mouth over one hardened nipple, he drew her deep, swirled his tongue over the swollen flesh as a guttural moan slipped from her lips. Breathing in the scent of her, he concentrated on the feel of her skin, the nuances of her, trying in vain to ignore the rhythmic throbbing of his own body as he stubbornly forced himself to take his time.

 

“Please, Gavin,” she sighed, almost a whimper, as she tugged on handfuls of hair.

 

Gavin broke away long enough to kiss her gently. She caught him and held on, running the tip of her tongue over his teeth, caressing his tongue with hers as she shifted her hips under his. He groaned softly, the sound of it muffled by her lips, her mouth, as the heat of her body coiled around him. The throbbing surged into a painful ache that was nearly his undoing. “I-i-it's okay,” he murmured, kissing the outline of her lips with the gentlest of touches, “I'm not going anywhere, Jilli.”

 

She uttered a sound of protest, running her hands up and down his chest. Closing his eyes, he shivered as her claws dragged over his skin. Leaning up to kiss his neck, she suckled on his flesh with a low moan. With a half-sigh, half-moan, she fell back, her body trembling as he ran his hands up and down the length of her. She rose to his touch, begged him silently for the relief she craved. Swelling, blossoming, she reached out to pull him closer, her rapid, panting breaths goading his passion, straining his already shaky control. Running her fingers over his back, squeezing his shoulders, holding him close, she writhed under him, her body racked with delicious quivers that radiated from her to him in the stillness.

 

Gavin gasped as the rioting sensation sent shivers racing up and down his spine. Every muscle in his body constricted as she nipped at his chin, bathed the roughened skin with her tongue. Undulating her hips against him, she whimpered as though she was in pain, and he sucked in a harsh breath when he slipped into her.

 

Jillian gasped and cried out softly, arching even further off the floor, her head falling back as her body convulsed. The consuming fire, the intense heat precluded every rational thought that he might have summoned. He couldn't help the ragged growl that escaped him as he thrust into her. His passion was overriding everything, and the need to take what she was offering was too powerful to ignore. He felt the trace resistance in her body, but it released as quickly as he felt it. With a loud groan, he pushed himself up on his elbows as she lifted her pelvis to capture him completely. Forcing his eyes opened, he stared with a clouded sense of wonder as she struggled to breathe, as a pretty flush of absolute passion suffused her face with a rosy glow.

 

Closing his eyes again, he trembled, rocking his body against hers in a stunted, almost clumsy cadence that she welcomed. It was too new, too powerful, and the sensations that coursed through him were far too powerful. Her body tightened and released around him. The hot wetness of her was too welcome and far too heady.

 

The fluidity of motion evened out. She lifted her hips off the floor only to be driven back with a hard thrust. Her passion matched his as emotions tumbled upon one another, shifting and changing, ebbing and flowing. Growing and retreating, the give and take blossomed and swelled as he reveled in the wonder of Jillian, as his best friend evolved into his mate.

 

Teetering on the edge of a near-painful orgasm, he gritted his teeth and tried to slow down. The lure of her body was too hard to ignore. Matching the fevered tempo of his stunted movements, she panted, gasped, drew him deeper, held him closer.

 

One last thrust sent him careening off the precipice into the hazy brightness that exploded behind his eyelids. With a groan, a gasp, a ragged entreaty, he collapsed against her: his friend, his lover, his mate . . .

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Gavin opened his eyes and heaved a long, self-satisfied sigh as a tiny grin turned up the corners of his lips. Idly stroking Jillian's bare shoulder as she cuddled against his chest, he couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped him as he concentrated on the altogether nice feelings that were coursing through him instead of some of the other things that had occurred to him over the last few hours since they had officially become mates. “You're bad, Jillian Zelig,” he mused as his grin widened.

 

Wiggling around to sit up and look at him, she wrinkled her nose and smiled unrepentantly. “You should realize by now that I always wake up when you get up, Gavin,” she pointed out.

 

“Okay,” he allowed. “Point taken.”

 

She nodded once and rolled to her feet, pausing a moment to stretch while he gaped at her, unable to help the faint hint of a blush that crept over his skin since reminding himself that it was quite all right to ogle one's mate was completely acceptable never seemed to actually work. Maybe he'd get used to that someday. He doubted it, though. “I'm going to get a bottle of water. You want something, my mate?” she asked.

 

The blush that he'd been fighting shot to the fore, but he smiled at the endearment that she'd used quite often since she'd so unceremoniously dragged him inside. “Water's good,” he agreed.

 

She giggled at his reddened face and kissed his cheek before sauntering off toward the kitchen.

 

He watched her go with a chuckle, shaking his head slightly just before he grimaced and uttered a low groan. It was entirely nice, he decided as a rueful grin resurfaced.

 

`Too bad you're going to get clobbered.'

 

`Don't I know it?' Gavin agreed with a heavy sigh.

 

After the first time they'd made love, he'd carried Jillian upstairs for the second round. After that, they'd both fallen asleep with their bodies still tangled together. Since neither of them had slept very well the night before, it wasn't surprising that they'd exhausted one another. He'd woken up just as the sun was starting to set, and with Jillian still sleeping with a contented smile on her face, he'd slipped out of the bed, pausing long enough to grab his underpants and pulling them on before kissing her cheek and heading downstairs to make `The Call'.

 

And that hadn't been so bad, either, really. After spending ten minutes rehearsing a good way to tell Cain Zelig that he'd claimed Jillian as his mate without asking permission first, he wiped his hands on his shirt that was still lying in the middle of the living room floor and proceeded to call the tai-youkai.

 

Unfortunately, he'd barely gotten out more than, “Good evening, sir . . . I hope I'm not disturbing you,” when Jillian wandered down the stairs only to lower her chin when she spotted him with the telephone plastered to his ear. To make things just that much worse, she'd shot him a devious little smile before dropping to her knees and wrapping her hands and mouth around his . . . parts. Rasping out a very choked, “I'll call you back, sir,” Gavin had dropped the phone—he might have remembered to shut it off—before grabbing Jillian and hauling her into his lap to kiss her soundly, among other things.

 

Cain called back two minutes later. Jillian had gotten to the device before Gavin could reach it, and in customary Jillian-fashion, she giggled and told her father that she'd claimed her mate and was about to claim him again, ending with a very jubilant, “Bye, bye, Daddy!” before she hung up the phone, and effectively guaranteeing that Gavin's next encounter with the tai-youkai would probably result in some form of maimage inflicted upon Gavin's person . . .

 

In fact, they'd just finished Jillian's re-claiming, which was why Gavin was trying desperately not to think about the imminent carnage that was going to befall him the next time he ventured onto Zelig land . . .

 

He heard the trill of Jillian's cell phone in the distance. Running through the living room, she stopped long enough to hand a bottle of water to her gaping mate before bouncing away and up the stairs to find and answer the call.

 

Gavin flopped back against the sofa with a ragged groan. Seeing her darting through the house like that was going to take some getting used to, he figured though he couldn't rightly say that he minded her state of undress very much. Every single part of her moved with the grace and fluidity of water, which wasn't entirely surprising, but watching her do that in the nude was almost more than he could stand. He had a feeling that keeping Jillian in clothes was going to be something that was more difficult than keeping his hands off her for twenty-four years had been.

 

Sighing as he pushed himself to his feet, he headed off after her after retrieving his underpants and pulling them on. As comfortable as she might be in the buff, he couldn't quite say the same for himself. Besides that, he needed a shower in the worst way. Making a face, he trudged up the stairs and down the hallway. Jillian was lying on her stomach with her feet kicked up, legs crossed at the ankles. She wiggled her fingers at him, and he smiled, pausing long enough to kiss her forehead before heading off to the bathroom.

 

“Evan says congratulations,” she said, covering the receiver with her hand.

 

Gavin chuckled. “Uh . . . yeah. Thanks,” he replied.”

 

She giggled, and he glanced over his shoulder in time to see her leaning to the side, unabashedly watching his retreat.

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

“So he finally got his head out of his ass, huh?”

 

“Yes,” Jillian replied with a self-satisfied smile. “He's officially my mate.”

 

“About fucking time,” Evan grumbled. “I was starting to worry for a minute.”

 

“Sorry to get you all worried,” she said.

 

“Nah . . . I'm happy for you.”

 

“So when will you be back stateside?” Jillian asked, propping her cheek on the heel of her hand.

 

Evan sighed. “Soon enough,” he replied. “Mike's all pissed off, though. Guess he didn't like that I canceled the first concert.”

 

“Why'd you do that?”

 

Evan snorted. “You were supposed to fly in, remember? I wanted to be free for you if you needed me.”

 

She smiled. “You're such a sweetie, Evan. I love you.”

 

“Of course you do,” he quipped. “You're a woman. Women always adore me.”

 

“Do we?”

 

“Yes.”

 

She laughed. “You know why?”

 

“Because I'm hung?”

 

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “No, silly . . . because you sensitive and sweet.”

 

“Gah! Don't say that kind of shit, Jilli!” he grumbled.

 

“Well, you are,” she informed him. “Get over it.”

 

He snorted again. “The hell!”

“You're going to make some woman very happy one day,” Jillian predicted.

 

“Fuck, yeah, I will! We'll just stay in bed all the time,” he stated. “Nothing but fuckin' fucking, twenty-four-seven—three hundred and sixty fucking five days a year . . .”

 

“I swear there's something wrong with you,” she giggled.

 

“Keh! Nothing wrong with me . . . I just have a very healthy respect for all things deviant in nature.”

 

“You mean that you're just plain bad,” she remarked.

 

“Same thing,” he agreed. “Anyway, I just wanted to make sure Wonderboy wasn't fucking up all over again.”

 

“No . . . he's made me a very happy Jilli,” she assured him.

 

“Good . . . go-o-o-od.”

 

“Bye, Evan . . . love you.”

 

“Love you, too,” he replied.

 

The line went dead, and Jillian clicked it off with a happy little sigh. She could hear the steady drone of the shower in the bathroom just off the master bedroom, and she rolled over onto her back, debating whether or not she should sneak in there and surprise her new mate. Rolling off the bed, she sauntered over to the door and slipped inside.

 

Gavin was letting hot water stream into the tub while he used the shower stall beside it. With a giggle, she slipped the frosted glass door open and let her eyes roam over Gavin's physique, completely appreciating ever line, every hard plane of his body. “Damn, Gavvie . . . Any idea how badly I want you right now?”

 

Whipping around, he shot her a startled glance as his cheeks reddened despite the bashful, lopsided grin he shot her. “W-I . . . I-I'm drawing a bath for you,” he told her as he reached out to shut off the shower taps.

 

She giggled at his stammering. “So I see. Thank you.”

 

He took the towel she held out to him and wiped his face. “There was something I wanted to give you,” he said before he pushed the stall door open a little further and stepped out onto the threadbare old rag rug spread on the floor in front of the shower. “Why don't you get into the bath, and I'll get it.”

 

Jillian giggled and stepped into the steaming water. “Okay,” she told him.

 

Gavin blushed when he realized that she was staring at him quite unabashedly again. Snatching up his underpants, he started to pull them on.

 

“You know, Gavvie,” she began, raising her eyebrow meaningfully, “if you don't stop putting those on all the time, I'm going to start shredding ever pair of brighty-whities you own.”

 

“W—I—you—Jilli!” he grumbled but let the underpants drop from his fingers. “You . . . you can't go around shredding my underpants.”

 

“I could,” she argued pleasantly, crossing her arms on the edge of the tub and resting her chin on her nestled hands. “If you want to preserve the underpants . . .”

 

Snorting at her blatant threat, he strode out of the room, painfully aware that Jillian's perusal, if his darkening blush meant anything. She supposed that after a lifetime of telling himself that he wasn't really that much to look at that it might well take her awhile to get him accustomed to the idea that he certainly should be proud of the way he looked . . .

 

She leaned to the side as far as she could, craning her neck as she tried in vain to watch what Gavin was heading off to do. Opening the closet and hunkering down, she couldn't make out his actions, and it was driving her crazy.

 

After what seemed to be an inordinately long time, he thumped the floor with the heel of his hand and stood up, pausing for several seconds to stare at—something—in his hands with a thoughtful frown on his features before he squared his shoulders, a strangely stubborn expression adding a heightened sparkle to the depths of his gaze as he strode back toward the bathroom. Jillian's breath caught as he approached her. His wide shoulders . . . his undulating muscles . . . everything about him bespoke quiet strength, and she knew—just knew—that it wouldn't matter how often she watched him: she'd never, ever grow tired of looking at that man—her mate.

 

Kneeling down beside the tub, he shot her a distinctly nervous little grin as a trace of his familiar reluctance infiltrated his expression. Swallowing hard, he had trouble meeting her gaze, and he cleared his throat a few times before he could manage to speak. “I-I-I . . . I got this for you, and . . .” He grimaced. “It's not much. I-I'll get you a better one—a bigger one—later . . .”

 

Jillian blinked in surprise at the little black velvet jeweler's box he held out to her. Casting him a questioning glance, she slowly took it and bit her lower lip. “Is this . . .?”

 

He tried to smile. It looked more like a grimace. “W-well . . . open it?”

 

Why did it suddenly feel like a million butterflies had gotten loose in the pit of her stomach? Gnawing on her lip, she shot Gavin another quick glance before slowly pushing the little silver button on the front of the box. The lip sprang open, revealing a small but brilliant diamond solitaire ring. “Oh, Gavvie . . .” she breathed.

 

He flinched. “Jilli . . . w-w-will you . . . m-marry . . . me?”

 

She blinked quickly as the wash of inexplicable tears washed into her gaze. Covering her mouth with a trembling hand, she slowly nodded, barking out a terse little giggle as she shot Gavin a tremulous smile. “Yes!” she assured him, holding out her arms for him.

 

The relief that crashed over Gavin's face was astonishing. She wasn't sure if he had really expected that she'd say `no', but he laughed suddenly, leaning forward to kiss her ever so sweetly as she melted against him. “I'll marry you, Gavin Jamison. I would have married you a long time ago.”

 

 

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Final Thought fromGavin:

She … said … yes …?

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Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Shameless): I do not claim any rights to InuYashaor 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~