InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Taken ❯ Give and Take ( Chapter 1 )

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

Disclaimer: I can't even pretend to own them! Just read it, I'd get my head taken off! Erm… I don't make any money off the tickets to these shows, either. But then, who am I to deny anyone such a thing?
 
Rating: NC-17
Genre: PWP, YAOI
Code: Figure it out yourself, LOL
Feedback: If you don't, my muse will throw a tantrum and I really don't want to hear it. So toss him some feed ^_^ just remember that he doesn't like anything too burnt…
 
Warning: Rampant OOC-ness!
 
Taken
 
I had no idea it would be this way. When my flesh was taken, he hadn't been gentle. I never expected myself to by lying on the ground, watching a man pushing his way deep inside of me, making me cry out… making me like it. It was demeaning, it should have made me want to kill him, not have me writhing on the ground, begging him to push deeper in.
 
I've always been strong, always been independent. I never needed anyone. But now, if he's out of my sight, I feel lost and incomplete. What has he done to me? Who made me into this sniveling child? And why am I afraid of him, as much as I desire him? Why do I tremble inside when his eyes go dark?
 
I see my own death there.
 
No, there he is; he's coming back for me. I don't want it; I want to hide. My entire body is shaking with anticipation, wanting to drop to the ground and beg him to take me. But my mind is crying out for me to run, to turn and kill him—anything to end this heavenly nightmare. Those eyes of his, usually a deep blue, usually laughing—they're dark, almost black and I see a promise of pain.
 
I can't take it; I turn and run. Pain flares in my wrist and ankles and I hit the ground, his body pinning me down.
 
“Where did you think you were going?” he asks me. My body is shaking and the aching between my legs is so intense with anticipation for what's going to follow that I can barely take it. He shoves my shoulders down and pushes my hair to the side, pressing my chest against the ground almost painfully. How he has such strength, I will never know. I'm not weak, I'm not helpless, but he can make me feel like I am. He can make me feel like I'm nothing at all.
 
“Anywhere away from you,” I hiss, trying to break away from him. I hear him laugh and I know that he has total control over me. What's worse is that he knows it, too. I would never submit, never be laid low… he makes me into such a liar. All I want is to be his whore.
 
It amazes me how fast he can get through my clothing, never leaving so much as a wrinkle. I wonder if he violates others like he does me. I wonder if he makes them cry out his name and beg him for more. Does he make them feel dirty but complete? Or am I the only one he treats like this?
 
I hiss in pain as he drags something that burns down my back, but the pain is welcome and my body reacts, tightening and aching with need. I try to shove him off, knowing it's futile and he laughs at me. My skin crawls with the derisive laughter and it leaves me panting with frustration and desire. I want to be on top, I want to take him, but I know that in this mood, I would never get far.
 
The burns are soothed with his tongue as he retraces the trail down my spine and I gasp when his teeth graze my skin. I bite my tongue, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a vocalization, no matter how hard it's pushing at my throat. I won't give into him, I tell myself. I lie to myself, over and over and meanwhile, I'm pressing up into him, rubbing myself against him like a bitch in heat, practically begging him.
 
“Tell me you want it,” he whispers in my ear. I refuse to give in, flexing my claws, trying to reach for him. But I stop when I realize I don't know what I would do if he went away. If I really hurt him… My body tenses and I let my head hang.
 
“Please,” I gasp. The word is so foreign to me; it tastes wrong on my tongue. But then, he pulls my hair until he can soothe the foreign word away with his own mouth. He tastes like rice and his tongue feels like silk against my lips, sliding against the sensitive skin, leaving it tingling and teased. The rough skin of his palms slides over my bare skin, making the muscles underneath jump and twitch in exquisite pleasure. Such is the fate of his hands, to bring this pain and bliss all at once, with the same bit of flesh.
 
“You shouldn't try to run,” he whispers again, then I cry out as his fingers find my nipple and squeeze. He flips me onto my back, climbing onto me and I can see him for the first time as he starts rubbing his length against mine. I don't know how he managed to get his clothing off without my noticing, but my senses were so muddled by his assault on my body that I suppose the lapse can be forgiven.
 
My mouth finds its way to his skin, at last, I can taste him, feel his pulse beneath my tongue and it would be such a simple thing to end his life and end my torment, my dependency on him. He knows this, he gets off on feeding my beast, letting it know it could have him if I weren't so weak. Who would ever have thought that I could be tamed like this?
 
The sound finally slips past my lips as his mouth moves across my skin, rewarding me for letting him live. When he takes me in his mouth, somehow sliding all of my length into his throat, my mind begins to cloud. All I can do is feel the pressure, the rolling waves of ecstasy and the heat of his soft, wet mouth as it engulfs me. And, just as I reach that golden edge, he retreats, knowing how close I am. I reach for him, my hips thrusting of their own accord and he uses that to catch my thighs and slide my backside along them until he's at something that was once never an entrance. Something he made his own.
 
Then he's in me, pushing in, hard and dry so that I cry out in that mingled torment he inspires within me. He isn't gentle, he isn't kind and he doesn't care if I like it at this point. But I do. I love it. No one ever dared to claim me as theirs; no one ever dared take me. I was always the proprietor, always the one laying claim. It felt so disorienting, but pleasing, having it all taken away from me. Losing control so utterly.
 
And seeing his well-toned young body moving above mine was the last piece my muddled mind could fit together before a slight brush against my desperate length sends me over the edge, screaming his name into the night, calling out for him. Miroku follows with a cry of his own, burying himself deep inside of me and curling his body down across mine, holding me tight against him.
 
Finally, it fades away and he's lying on my chest, his lips half parted and the darkness gone from his eyes. The fear I had that he will take my life—something he's claimed he would do at any time he so felt like—vanishing on the wind with the soft gasps he releases. I pull him close against my chest with the only arm I have, holding him tightly and not wanting him to leave.
 
Who knew a mortal could ever inspire these things in me? It wasn't supposed to be like this! Who knew that the great Sesshomaru could be laid low by the hands of a young monk? Not I, and if you ever ask me, it will be the last breath you take in this life. He may own me: body and soul, but he has not tamed me fully and he never will. I will never submit… or so I tell myself. Then I think of him leaving me and I know it's a lie.
 
Oh, how I wish I could kill him…
 
The End