InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Lemon Club ❯ Last Night ( Chapter 1 )

A/N This is not just one story; rather, this will house all my one shots, off-shoots, and vignettes, keeping them all together so they don't get lost in the big bad world of cyberspace. The one thing that unifies them, as I am sure you can tell by the title, is that they all deal with sex in some way, ranging from light limey fluffy petting to all out orgiastic goodness.

 

About the stories - well, they can be anything. The can be within the framework of the Inuyasha universe or AU's, they can be (mostly) traditional or alternate pairings, they can (and mostly will be) of a more lighthearted nature, but that doesn't mean I will not get the urge for the odd dark one.

 

About the sex - I am rating this series NC-17 for a reason. Since I haven't written the stories yet, I can't say exactly what will be in each one, but if the idea of toys, bondage, threesomes, anal sex, voyeurism, things of that nature bother you, I would recommend not even bothering reading this series. Obviously, not all (or even any) of these things will be in every story, but I am just trying to give you a heads up.

This first story was just a quick something that came to mind, which I wrote in less than ten minutes. Supply your own pairing, and enjoy!

 

LAST NIGHT

 

Last night, it was to your voice that I came.

I cannot get your voice out of my head. It surrounds me, wraps me into its spell. It completely consumes me, but it is a consuming I have no wish to stop.

Your voice makes me think things, imagine things, feel things, that yes, I have experienced before, but never like this, never this intense.

I run my hand down my body, over my neck, over my breasts. It is not my hand though, it is yours, caressing here, pulling ever so slightly there. My nipples are hard, erect, and I wonder how you would touch them. Gentle and feather light, or would it be harder, more demanding, to make me gasp and arch my back at the insistence of your hands?

My hand burrows into the tuft of hair at the junction of my thighs. Already I can feel the wetness my body has left there. Slowly I spread my legs, then with two fingers I gently probe the dampness there, slipping those fingers inside of me.

I imagine you looking at this sight; me exposed completely to your gaze. I see you come down on me, your mouth above the place where my hand rests. I feel your mouth moving on me, lapping at me as though you are dying of thirst, and I am an eternal spring.

I bring my fingers up higher, to that little, important nub. I start to rub, my fingers going in a circular motion. My breathing deepens slightly, my temperature raises. I pretend that I can look and see your head instead of my fingers there.

The feelings you invoke in me are too intense. I try to arch, to get away, but your hands grab my hips, your claws biting into me, making me still.

My hands slip into your hair, trying to move you, or maybe forcing you to stay, but my will does not sway you. That mouth, that warm, generous mouth, continues on me in ways I never knew.

I say your name, a short guttural growl torn from me. I hear your voice shape the sounds of my name, taking on that roughness of tone that I know means that the same feelings coursing through me are enveloping you also.

So close, I'm so close. Faster, harder, oh god please. Soft sounds are coming from me, panic and pleasure and need mixed together.

I come suddenly, my hips arching from the bed, short jerky spasms enveloping my body, your name circling over and over in my head, in thanks, in supplication, in want.

Now, as I lie here in this bed, still quivering slightly, my own smell musky on my fingers, I think of a time in the future, a time where I am free to approach you, touch you. I dream of the time when I can lean into you and whisper into your ear the only words that have any meaning for me, the words that will bind you to me, the words that will make me yours.

Make me come.