InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity Redux: Fruition ❯ Panic ( Chapter 34 )

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

The sweetest brush of something soft, warm . . . A lingering sigh, a breath, a flicker of a stuttering thing that grew, pulsed, churned into an understated longing . . .

The swell of conscious thought gave way to an absolute sensation before it could draw together in any form of imagined coherence.  The caress of the familiar youki, the melded rhythm of two hearts that sought a perfect sympathy as sleep fell away.  Caught in a suspended grey between the two extremes of awake and asleep, she sighed softly, the sound captured by the lips pressed against hers, creating a cadence that she felt deep down . . .

The drag of claws trailing up her thigh, over her hip, up under the thin tee-shirt she'd worn to bed, drew a gasp from her, a million sparks of fire and light, threatening the bemusement that so effectively held her, caught up somewhere between wonder and longing, colliding in a rush of flames and raw desire.  The insistent tug on her bottom lip as he drew upon it, suckling gently, demanding yet soft, tongue darting out to soothe the escalating burn . . .

"Ben," she whispered, giving herself up to sensation, to the deluge of rampant need that rose within her, burgeoning with a fierceness that both frightened and thrilled her as the layers built upon themselves, tumbled over each other, creating a surge of want that bounded away from her before she could even begin to process it.

His answer was a low growl, all the more primitive because of the roughened, savage quiet.  His hand rubbed the skin of her belly, and she whimpered, grasping his wrist, though she neither sought to stop him nor tried to goad him further.  Hand tracing a slow, meandering path over her body, he touched her with a maddening lethargy.

She gasped, arching her back, dragging her mouth away from his as she uttered a harsh cry, as his hand closed over her breast.  The heat of his palm seemed to sear her flesh, and she cried out again when he shoved her shirt up, using his elbows push himself forward and down at the same time, as his mouth dropped over the swollen peak of her nipple, his other hand still squeezing gently, still teasing her other breast with the whisper of claws . . . and her world seemed to explode in a violent rush of tremors, of shivers, of sighs . . .

He wasn't finished.

Trailing his claws down her body as he kissed his way along a similar path, he groaned against her skin, the reverberations shooting straight through her.  She squirmed against him, unsure if she was trying to escape or willing him to continue.  He growled again, effectively stilling her, as he pressed wet kisses on her stomach, his tongue flicking out to create a balmy caress.

Sinking her hands deep into his hair, she struggled to breathe.  Body quaking as her nerves erupted, sending shockwave after shockwave, coursing through her, she rasped out a harsh little half-sob as the tension, the consuming fire, broke her wide open.  In a vague sort of way, she felt the tug on her panties, but it didn't make sense.  No, the only thing she could even begin to comprehend was the touch of his hands, the maddening feel of his lips, of his tongue, of his fangs as he dragged them over her flesh.

And slowly—painfully slowly, he pushed himself back upward again, his body, his chest, his skin, creating the most delicious, bordering on painful, stroke, his knee planted firmly between her raised knees, and when he dropped his lips over hers once more, his tongue delving into her mouth to taste her, to claim her, he slipped a finger deep into her as she cried out again, only to have the sound captured within his mouth, as her body convulsed around him, as her world exploded with the brilliance of the noon-day sun . . .

It seemed to Charity that it took an inordinately long time for her scattered wits to return to a semblance of normal, and when she opened her eyes, she smiled.  Rubbing his cheek against her temple in a slow, idle sort of way, Ben seemed content to just hold her.  "Good morning," she murmured, lifting her chin, rising up to kiss him.

He sighed and gave her a quick little squeeze.  "I'd say I was sorry for that, but I'm not," he replied.  "Besides, it was kind of your fault."

She leaned away, her mouth dropping open as her eyes widened.  "My—? How do you figure?"

He chuckled.  "You were all warm and snuggly and so close . . . Entirely your fault."

Snapping her mouth closed as her cheeks blossomed in indignant color, she uttered a terse grunt and tried to roll over to the other side of the bed.  Ben's chuckle didn't falter as he pulled her back against him once more.  The retort she'd been forming, however, died about the moment their bodies touched, mostly because, while she might feel entirely satisfied, Ben absolutely was not, and she could feel the direct result of that in a big way.

He sighed.  "I need a shower," he said, sparing another moment to hold her close before letting go and slipping out of the bed.

Burying her face in her pillow, Charity giggled as she yanked the blanket up over her head.

'We could have looked, you know . . . Doubt he would have minded at all.'

Wrinkling her nose at her youkai-voice's liberal sensibilities, she giggled again.  'Hentai.'

'Hentai, maybe, but you do have to admit, that was a hell of a way to start the day.'

Cautiously peering out from under the blanket to make sure that Ben had, in fact, retreated to the bathroom, Charity heaved a sigh and sat up.  'Yeah, but . . . But shouldn't I have done . . . something?' she wondered, frowning at the wash of color that slammed into her cheeks.

'Maybe, but you know Ben well enough to know that he wouldn't ever expect anything of the sort if you're not completely comfortable with it.  Are you comfortable with that?'

Making a face since she actually wasn't entirely sure that she was comfortable with it, Charity sighed.  Sure, Chelsea had delighted in telling her all about things—things like blow jobs and stuff like that.  It didn't mean that Charity was comfortable with it, though . . . If nothing else, just how would that be?  What if her nerves got the better of her and she ended up embarrassing herself, or worse?

'There's something worse than embarrassing yourself?'

Charity snorted.  'Sure.  I could accidentally hurt him or something . . . and that would most definitely be worse.'

'Okay, yeah, so oral sex is not something you're completely okay with. Gotcha.  But you know . . .'

She wrinkled her nose.  'What?'

'Well, I was just thinking . . . You could try to talk him into taking you to the mainland.'

'Why would I want to do that?'

Her youkai laughed.  'Condoms, Cherry.'

'O . . . Oh . . .'


"No."

Rolling her eyes, Charity giggled as Ben crossed his arms over his chest and adamantly shook his head.  "What's wrong with them?"

Eyes widening at her question, Ben snorted.  "What do you mean, what's wrong with them?  First off, they're babies.  They don't need to be wearing bikinis.  Second off, they're far too young to be objectified by the bathing suits they wear.  Third off—and most importantly—you put bonnets on them every time we take them out in the sun, which is great, so, why are you putting them in those when they'll end up all lobstery and whiny because sunburns hurt?"

Charity shook her head, but her smile didn't fade.  "I thought you said you wanted to start teaching them how to swim since they've finally gotten over the screaming-whenever-they-touch-water-thing, and there's nothing wrong with these.  I am not objectifying anyone, and if you want the truth, it's you men who do that, not us women."

He snorted again.  "They show off their belly buttons."

Charity barked out a laugh before she could stop herself.  "Go get your swim suit on, Ben," she commanded, shoving him back out of the living room.

"All right; all right," he grumbled, making no bones about the fact that he really didn't approve of the so-called swimming suits on his daughters.  "Where's yours, by the way?"

"I already put mine on," she said.

He blinked then narrowed his eyes at her.  "Oh?"

Glancing down to ascertain just why he was looking so skeptical, she sighed.  "Under my tee-shirt," she clarified.  "We're just waiting on you."

He heaved a very put-upon sigh but turned to stride down the hallway toward the master bedroom to change.

"Your daddy's a silly, silly man," Charity said, picking up Emmeline and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Nadia rolled over onto her tummy and slapped at the floor.

A few minutes later, Ben stepped into the living room with a scowl on his face as he tugged on the suit jacket and fussed with the lapels.  "Sorry, Cherry," he said.  "Vasquez just called and asked me to meet with him.  Said it can't wait."

"Did he find out something?"

Ben shrugged as he hurried over to kiss the babies.  "Maybe.  He said that there's been a weird attack in an isolated village up in the mountains.  The locals are all stirred up, saying it's El Chupacabra."  He made a face. "Anyway, he asked me to come with him to check it out."

"Doesn't El Chupacabra attack goats?"

"And other livestock," he reminded her.

She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms over her chest.  "So, you're going to check out a livestock massacre?"

"No . . . Actually, there were a couple of human victims, too."

"Oh . . ."

He reached out, drew her into a quick hug, a very hurried kiss.  "It might take me a day or two.  It's pretty far out there.  Steve's got a helicopter, so we'll see how it goes.  Reception isn't good up there, either, so don't worry if you don't hear from me, okay?"

"Okay," she said, forcing a smile for his benefit.

He sighed again and let go of her before grabbing an overnight bag and striding toward the door.  He stopped and smiled back at her for a long moment.  Then he turned and walked out.

Charity drew a deep breath and turned to smile down at the girls.  "All right, babies . . . How about a girls' day?"


Charity awoke with a wide yawn and stretched before sitting up on the sofa and glancing down at the babies sleeping on the floor.  She'd played with them for a while after Ben's impromptu exit before feeding and changing them, and when they'd fallen asleep on the floor, she'd crawled up onto the sofa and fell asleep, too.  Glancing at the clock, she sighed when she realized that it had only been a couple hours.  Funny how the time seemed to drag on whenever Ben was gone . . .

Even so, she figured she might as well try to get some cleaning done while the girls were still out.  She needed to change all the bedding and get it washed and, if she were lucky, she might actually get the bedrooms thoroughly cleaned before the girls woke up . . .

It didn't take long to strip down and wipe off the crib and plastic covered mattress before slipping on a thick waterproof mattress pad, followed by a cute little teddy bear printed fitted sheet and gathering the blankets along with the hamper of their laundry.  Ten minutes later, broom and dustpan in hand, she was back after stuffing the laundry in the washer.

'How the heck does this place get so dirty when it's not like the girls do anything in here but sleep?' she thought to herself as she squatted down to sweep under the crib.  That only worked for a minute, though, before she gave up and just moved the crib out of the way.  The rest of the room was handled in pretty much the same fashion, and by the time she finished, she had to wipe a fine sheen of sweat off her brow.  The small area rug in the middle of the floor was going to have to be vacuumed, but she wasn't about to push her luck by trying to do that at the moment.

The master bedroom proved to be a bit trickier, mostly because Charity normally vacuumed the mattress whenever she changed the sheets.  Skipping that once, though, wouldn't really be the end of the world, she supposed.  She'd just do an extra-thorough cleaning the next time.  Still, she did spray the mattress down with the deodorizing antibacterial spray and let it dry while she cleaned the floors.  It was a little more troublesome since she didn't move the furniture to clean under it, but most of the pieces in the room were just too big and cumbersome to do that.

She'd just finished with the bedroom and was contemplating tackling the bathrooms when the doorbell sounded, and she frowned, hurrying through the house as quietly and quickly as she could to head off the visitor before they decided to ring the bell a second time.  Strange, to get visitors out here . . .

Brushing that thought away, she reached for the handle.  "Can I help you?  Oh!  It's you!" she exclaimed softly as she pulled the door open and blinked in surprise at the young man who had taken their picture during their Christmas shopping trip.

He scratched the side of his head and shrugged, gesturing at the huge stack of presents that he'd already brought up from the boat.  "I got your delivery stuff," he said.

"Oh, yes!" she blurted, remembering a moment too late that Ben had paid to have everything brought out.  "Can you just put it all over there?  And if it's no trouble, if you could please keep it down? The twins are taking their nap . . ."

She turned around to push the door open a little farther.  "Do you work for the store?"

He shook his head as he grabbed the first load of bags and boxes.  "Uh, no, but the guy who was supposed to deliver your stuff had an emergency, so I told him I'd bring it out for you."

"That's really nice of you," she said with a bright smile.  "I'll give you some extra for going out of your way to help us out!"

"I-It's fine," he muttered, bringing in more of the stuff.  "Those, uh, girls . . . They're not yours," he remarked as he brought in the rest of the delivery.

Charity's smile faltered for a second before flashing back to life once more.  "They're mine," she corrected.  "We're adopting them."

"Why would you want to raise someone else's cubs?"

"They're not someone else's," she insisted.  "They're mine, and I don't mind at all."

He finished setting everything down and dusted his hands together before sticking his hands into the pocket of his jacket.

Charity's smile faltered as she sniffed the air.  "Do you smell that?  It smells . . . weird."

He shook his head.  "It might be boat fuel," he said.  "I spilled a little when I was filing it up."

She nodded slowly.  It didn't really smell like gas, but she couldn't quite place what it was.  "Let me give you some more money," she insisted.  "Hold on; I'll get my purse."

She turned around to hurry over to the small table by the desk where she kept her purse.  As quickly and quietly as he could, though the young man stepped up behind her, smashed a foul-smelling bit of cloth over her nose and mouth.  Charity fought it for a few seconds, but her arms fell away as her eyes slid closed, as the world blacked out around her, and she crumpled to the floor . . .