InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Sesshoumaru's Mate: A Valentine's Story - ON HOLD ❯ Part 4 - Spaces Between Words ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: The ownership and general brilliance that is the original Feudal Fairy Tale remains the property of its honored and rightfully revered creator Rumiko Takahashi without whose brilliance ,we would not have fodder.

 

Title: Sesshoumaru's Mate - A Valentine's Story
Author ElegantPaws

Genre: AU

Rating: Mature - Sexual content, you have been warned.

Edited by: Meara

Part 4 - Spaces Between Words

 

Yoshiro toyed with his food at the dinner table. Sun-kissed amber watched furtively the rigid set of his Mother's jaw line as she reached for the condiment caddy, her fingers brushing that of his Father's briefly. Her hand recoiling instantly as though burnt by her husband's touch.

 

Satori sighed and winked at her baby brother across the low table, having missed nothing of the exchange between their parents.

 

“Ookasan?”

 

Warm brown eyes turned to her daughter, the love light evident in the Priestess' expression.

 

“Yes, baby? What is it?” Kagome said gently, leveling Sesshoumaru with a frigid glare before reaching once more for the lemon grass dressing.

 

“Do you think the speech had the desired effect?” Satori asked, reciprocating the gentle tone as she handed her the spice, avoiding a confrontation.

 

“You handled yourself marvelously well, my daughter. I am very proud of you. It would have been nice, however, had you stayed post meeting to speak with those in attendance. It doesn't hurt to get to know the members of the board and let them realize that you are another approachable member of the Taishou Clan. Honey always garners more than vinegar in attitude, I have always found. You will need the majority support when the time comes.”

 

Kagome's tone and intimation was not lost on the Master of the Clan Taishou. He growled under his breath and leveled his Mate with a look that would have sent most scurrying, but not one Taishou Kagome, Lady of the Western Lands.

 

“Fawning on moronic asses is equally a waste of time, Satori. Choose your battles. You did exceptionally well and you made proud the House of Taishou on this day. This Sesshoumaru expects nothing less. You are his daughter.”

 

Small, puppy ears twitched at the cadence of his father's voice.

 

“Yoshiro, my son, have you something to say?” inquired a deep baritone in question, passing the rolls to his youngest child. Yoshiro was far too willowy for his age.

 

A uncertain expression came over Yoshiro's face as he took the basket and looked to his Mother who smiled at him in approval, her own eyes skating over the Taiyoukai.

 

“Yes, Father.”

 

“What is it?” Sesshoumaru said somewhat impatiently as he watched his son meticulously tear and butter the roll.

 

“Can you speak to Mother directly? I hate it when you both do this.”

 

Sesshoumaru quirked a silver brow in disapproval, not having anticipated the directness of his first born son's response. He was far too much like his Mother at times for the Taiyoukai's liking. Served him right for not only mating a ningen, but a Miko (his sworn enemy) with a mind of her own, who did not yet, still know her place as Mate to a Taiyoukai and probably never would; irritating delectable bitch.

 

“Yoshiro, it is not your place, however well meaning, to dictate how your Mother and I choose to conduct our differences. You are a pup.”

 

“I know, Otusan seen and not heard,” Yoshiro said drily.

 

Kagome pulled her long tresses over one shoulder in annoyance and toyed with the ends of her hair, as her fork clattered to the delicate porcelain plate.

 

“My Lord, not to be difficult, but we share a private meal once a day with our children. We agreed, quite a long time ago, that what our children felt would always take precedence regardless of anyone's particular mood,” Kagome hissed through clenched teeth.

 

The Western Lord gave his wife an icy glare to no avail. She was apparently still angry about his earlier conduct with respect to the insufferable young, youkai male at council.

 

“Yoshi, lets go watch TV. I think The Apprentice is on, and the Baldwin brother, I am sure, is about to buy it.”

 

Yoshiro beamed at his elder sister following her lead.

 

“No way, I think Gene Simmons of KISS is. I bet you one week of dojo practice on that!” her younger brother said excitedly, as took their respective plates and exited the room, excitedly arguing the premise. Completing forgetting their manners and leaving the dining room without any by-your-leave of their parents, particularly that of their sire, Lord Sesshoumaru, who watched as the shoji closed behind with marked irritation.

 

“This is your doing, woman. In my day…”

 

“Shut it, Mister Taishou! Don't make me come over there,” Kagome said under her breath, eyeing her blood-orange slice with rage, forking it into her mouth and chewing.

 

The way both had walked in late to the council meeting casually as though all were there at their behest still rankled. The Taiyoukai had yet to apologize and the rather brutal way he had dislodged her seating companion was equally reprehensible. She was sure the young youkai male had sustained a broken arm; all because he had shown deference to the Western Lady.

 

 

It had been decided ages hence that the evening meal was to be strictly a family affair; always. It was a time to have privacy within the true family grouping, away from the protocol of the day and prying eyes. This ritual had been kept for near on 400 years.

 

The Western Lord eyed his Mate with veiled amusement belying his feigned annoyance at her candor.

 

“Exactly, what would you do woman, if you did come over here?” he asked blandly, forking a morsel of the citrus fruit between his lips delicately and chewing, his eyes never leaving hers. Even now, he wanted to take her, effectively putting her in her place, screaming his name to the heavens, as she had always done. Time had never dulled their ardor for one another.

 

“Sex, Sesshoumaru, does not solve anything.” Kagome said between gritted teeth, understanding the innuendo of his silken tone.

 

Choosing to change the subject and look away, the Miko, studied her plate, ignoring, the electric current in the air between them as paramours and Mates. It was one thing to be angry at him, but his touch always lead to the inevitable results. If she wanted to pretend to be vaguely coherent in his presence or the scent of him, she needed to get her grievance out first. Make up sex was a given and always satisfying.

 

“It is not meant to solve anything, woman,” The Western Lord stated matter-of-factly, getting up and approaching her end of the table with slow, predatory precision.

 

Kagome's heart raced, as she watched her husband's approach, licking her lips involuntarily. The slim fitting jeans, poured over his long, well-muscled legs, the dark maroon silk shirt, accentuating his broad shoulders and well defined biceps. She was done for. Her own body, evil, treacherous thing it was, began to tingle in anticipation of his touch and her inevitable surrender. This had always been a sticking point between them, which he used as the delicious weapon it was.

 

Both had decided eons before, they would space their children by centuries. Unlike most women, she had a choice due to her husband's heat. Yoshiro needed a sibling closer to his own age and well, if truth be told. Kagome had been feeling broody of late. Fortunately, or unfortunately Sesshoumaru knew this and was more than willing to do the deed at her behest. It was just patently unfair that he chose now to use his superior powers of seduction to take her mind off the pressing issue of the moment.

 

Soft, velvety lips captured hers in a searing kiss.

 

Breathlessly, the Miko spoke. “Do you have something against our bed chamber? Neither of our children have ever been conceived in it.”

 

“Incorrect, my delicious little fire brand. Satori, was conceived the night of the Houjo incident and that was in your bedroom at the time.” Sesshoumaru smirked, against her lips, as long, delicate fingers wound his pewter tendrils through feminine digits.

 

“I stand corrected,” Kagome moaned, as warm, moist lips assailed her cleavage hungrily.

 

“Sesshoumaru, my love, we need to talk,” the Priestess said breathing erratically, strong hands lifting her into a warm embrace; his need for her evident in the generous protrusion of his inseam -damn him! Her own desire evident to his senses. This was always the way between them; eternal, sacred and ephemeral was their lust for one another's completion.

 

Annoyed, he was being interrupted in his detailed study of the soft, feminine flesh beneath his lips.

 

“Later, this Sesshoumaru intends to bury himself within your depths.”

 

“Perv…”

 

“Indeed.”

_____________

 

“Why are Mom and Dad like that?” Yoshiro asked his sister.

 

“Mom is stronger than most women Dad would have encountered. I think it has much to do with why they remain attracted to each other. She doesn't surrender to his will easily, if at all, unless it suits her. Daddy is about conquest, as we know. Mommy is unconquerable, and so he keeps trying…never truly expecting to succeed.”

 

The silver headed boy nodded as they watched the flat screen in fascination as “The Donald” fired the lead singer of KISS with his usual vituperative commentary.

 

Satori chuckled, high-fiving her baby brother. He had called it right. It would promise to be a week of catching his baseballs or teaching him how to master his inherent skills of the Toxic Flower Claw, or perhaps how to defeat Tsuki in physical play. It mattered not. These days they spent very little downtime together so she looked forward to their private moments.

 

“Where is Master Jaken, really?”

 

She snickered. “Finding his way out of a maze, he was annoying me. So I gave him something to do.”

 

“Satori! That was unkind. You know he means well and you lied to Mother about his whereabouts at dinner,” her little brother said in censure, raising one silver brow indignantly.

 

“Brother or sister, you think?” Yoshiro said quietly after a time, seeming attention on the flat-screen in front of him, as they ate popcorn companionably.

 

In no way could it have been easy for Yoshiro (very much like Uncle Souta) having to play second fiddle to his elder sibling, though he, too, had come into his own as the keeper of the Higurashi Shrine in absentia. Uncle Souta's mating with Ookami's first daughter, extending his lifespan not quite matching his elder sister's but sufficient to ensure the Higurashi continuity in name.

 

 

“I think another brother.” Satori said, hazel eyes amused, as she shoved Yoshiro playfully wondering where he had acquired such dignity and poise. In some ways he was older than she was and far less inclined to emotional displays.

 

“Nah, little sister. Bet she has my hair. Mommy likes Daddy's hair.”

 

“Mommy….likes ….Daddy, period.” Satori said softly.

 

“Hnnn,” Yoshiro agreed.

 

Both snickered and blushed at the obvious as Mister Trump stood up about to blow a gasket at the contestants general incompetence, Buffon intact.

_______

 

 

Kagome shuddered, the feel of his dexterous tongue, always proving her undoing in moments like these as he glided up her body, settling himself between her thighs. The quiet rustle of crumpled linen sheets the only other sound in the room.

 

A gentle sated purr came from her own lips in acquiescence, damn him, even after all this time.

 

“It's unfair,” she breathed, stretching languidly beneath the smug male above her.

 

“What, my Mate, do you perceive as unfair?”

 

“How your very touch unhinges me, even after all this time. Nothing else has this effect on my body,” she purred, locking her legs about his midsection. Soft, warm brown, eyes flecked with amber looking into his ruby orbs.

 

“You are in love with my touch. I find your body sacred and delicious. Time has nothing to do with this feeling. You are my chosen Mate, the mother of my children,” the Western Lord murmured against Kagome's neck as he bit into her mark.

 

Kagome tensed against the burn of his fangs as they entered her flesh. An involuntarily trickle of ambrosia leaking from her nether regions, coating his rigid length which slide languidly between her lips in acknowledgement of their mutual attraction to one another.

 

“Kiss me, my Lord,” moaned the Miko, as his head dipped, taking one pebbled nipple between his teeth. He entered her forcefully, before recapturing her cherry red lips.

 

She remained tight around his heated girth; almost painfully so against his distended member. Sesshoumaru shuddered in ecstasy. His mind wondering absently, if there would ever come a time when he took his Mate and he did not feel this bliss upon entry her scorching womanhood; this perfect sense of completion in her intimate grip.

 

______

 

Morning had come, many hours hence. Though lacking in sleep, the sight of the ocean calmed the Miko, as it had done for centuries. In two days hence would be her sister and friend's party.

 

A warm, callused hand placed the lined silken robe upon feminine shoulders.

Gentle, warm lips caressing a pale, right shoulder, flaxen tendrils touching her cheek.

 

“Why are you awake, my Mate?” inquired a quiet masculine whisper next to Kagome's shell-pink ear, as arms enfolded the Miko's waist. The feel and scent of fresh linen, enveloping her as they both watched the sun rise over the ocean's horizon, breath for breath as they stood on their bed chamber's balcony.

 

“Patrick Maeve Brennan,” Kagome answered quietly anticipating her Mate's response.

 

Sesshoumaru stiffened behind his Mate, her hands clasping his clawed ones, keeping them about her waist with force.

 

“Let me make this clear, my love. I do think it queer that he has no family but equally, should he do anything to harm our daughter, I will kill him without a second thought,” Kagome said flatly, her gaze never leaving the orange rising sun.

 

“And?” The Western Lord queried, relaxing into his wife's hold.

 

“I think it only understandable. Fathers and Daughters have an intrinsic pact. Know I understand and will not stand in your way to seek knowledge of his life and his forbearers. Do know, however, our children deserve what we have.”

 

“Satori is different, Kagome.” Sesshoumaru responded, his frigid gaze firmly set on the horizon as he held his Mate.

 

“She is a young woman, who deserves the same love I feel in your arms. It would be wrong to deny her what we have. Equally, should Patrick prove to be the enemy that has been foretold, I as your Mate, Wife and companion will beat you to the punch. Allow them time, my Lord. Satori is no one's fool. The Council recognizes there is a rising change in the air, hence her acceptance.”

 

“Hnnn.”

 

“Allow her human emotions.”

 

“I do not wish my first born child to be hurt. Death will come swiftly to anyone causing this,” Sesshoumaru answered before removing his hands from his Mate's grip.

 

He had more than one entity to protect.

 

__________