InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Whispers Behind Rice Paper Walls ❯ chapter 8 ( Chapter 8 )

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

Chapter 8: A night of pent up frustration.

This was ridiculous. The Great Shikon Miko, She-Who-Had-Destroyed-The-Evil-Hanyo-Naraku-With-A-Single-Arrow, the Time Travelling Heroin, the Holy Warrior Priestess... She had spent years mastering what Nature and the Kami had given her; she had fulfilled what mission the Fates had brought upon her... She had put up with the brashness and rudeness of Inuyasha for a whole year, loving him from afar as he had pined for his old flame, until he had chosen her... but had he really? He hadn't forgotten Kikyo; he just had moved on.

Sometimes, she felt as if he was just with her because she was indeed available for him, and Kikyo was not. He had chosen the easier path. He often did.

And now, she was in a castle full of youkai--frustrated as hell--while everybody else was getting at it like wild rabbits. Very powerful rabbits, with super-strength and light-speed reflexes, heightened senses... and very loud voices.

Ugh...

She was asking herself why, oh why, the Kami above had gifted her with the ability to read one's emotions through their auras, when she sensed another flare of youki a dozen paces to her right. An inhuman groan sifted through the thin layers of rice paper walls, and she wished, not for the first time since she had been 'invited' to stay at the Stiff Prince's home, that she could become deaf, even if it was only for one night.

Even an hour would have been considered a blessing. Just enough time to drift back to sleep...

A snarl of conquest echoed through the empty hallways, making her cringe under the covers. Were youkai impervious to embarrassment? She knew nudity was not as much an issue as it was for her, and they were the spiritual embodiment of Nature after all... but... Just the night she wasn't supposed to sleep in Sesshoumaru's quarters and she couldn't even rest for a complete hour without being woken up by growls and whatnot.

How could the Old Dog suffer such indignities in his own personal domain? Or was he the first being who had invented youkai-friendly ear plugs?

Or was he having some too, taking advantage of her absence? After all, he was denied the pleasure of the flesh while this 'game' of theirs carried on... and as a youkai male, he couldn't stay 'chaste' this long, she surmised. After all, even a hanyou couldn't deny his Nature for as long as three miserable years.

Hnnngghhh...

The nineteen year old maiden grunted under her breath. Inuyasha would pay for all her misery, this she vowed to herself. She was too warm, a hot ball of clenched muscles coiling in her lower abdomen, the apex of her thighs becoming more damp with every passing minute. It was nearly painful, each and every spike of pleasure that she could sense in her vicinity heightening her own need.

Something in her snapped.

She crawled out of her futon, exhausted and somewhat angry at herself. She was losing the battle against her own body, and she knew it. In no way would she be able to sleep if she didn't... erm... “take care of her current condition.”

So she padded as softly as possible on the wooden floor, aiming for the bath-house. Perhaps the scent of the mineral waters would hide hers? Perhaps the steam would explain the heated complexion of her flesh, the rosy tint of her cheeks, if somebody came upon her?

Letting her sleeping yukata fall to the ground, she stepped into the spring, shivering slightly at the difference in temperature. She sighed contentedly when her muscles began to relax, her small hands slowly massaging her own tired form.

Hesitantly, her movements became more languid, more sensuous. She caressed the smooth expanse of skin of her inner thighs and shuddered again, not for the same reason though. She stifled a pleasured groan when she cupped the dark curls of her womanhood, her fingers slowly parting the petals of her most intimate flower.

One digit went between the already slick folds, rubbing lazily the bundle of nerves hidden within. The groan escaped her this time, intense shots of pained pleasure coursing through her abdomen and spine.

She accelerated the rhythm of the strokes, entering her clenching channel with one finger of her other hand. Her body writhed on its own accord, her back pressed up on the rocky bank of the hot spring, her full breasts bobbing in and out of the warm water, her pebbled nipples sticking out of the soft globes of flesh like beacons of unsatisfied need.

And unsatisfied she was indeed, her strokes and thrusts never quite sending her towards the much needed release, her arms were too short, damnit, her little fingers never filling her satisfactorily, the muscles of her core clenching madly against nothingness.

After at least half an hour of struggling, a couple of not-quite orgasms, she felt hollow and empty. And a little inner voice was telling her it was not simply because of the sexual frustration.

Something long and hard was not the only thing she was currently missing. She would have liked to be caressed as only a lover could, strong hands cupping her breasts, slick warm tongue exploring her mouth. She wanted to be cherished, physically and mentally. She needed sensuality more than pure sexuality, probably like every living and breathing female did.

Grunting in irritation, she wrapped her body with a large drying cloth and exited the bath house, walking briskly into the pre-dawn lights towards the small lake she had spotted near the house a few days ago.

As she neared the cold waters, she let her improvised towel slip to the ground and dived, shrieking when her blood froze in her veins. It wasn't winter, but Gods!, this was freezing!

She then started swimming, her first strokes a little jerky, but her movements becoming smoother as her muscles warmed up. She glided through the dark waters of the lake, getting to one shore and returning to the opposite one, breathing deeply, her frazzled nerves still on edge but her body's urges getting more and more under her own control.

The sun was shining above her head when she felt a presence approaching her. Recognizing the aura, she didn't stop swimming, small ripples surrounding her as she moved.

A smooth, emotionless voice interrupted her silent musings.

“What do you think you are doing here?” he asked, the bored tone reflecting his slight annoyance.

“Hum... swimming?” she answered, stilling a few paces from the bank. He lifted a brow in inquiry. “Huh... yeah... I know you don't see the point... I needed to relax and... hum... cool down.” She blushed under his silent scrutiny.

“You mean to say you were in the water swimming aimlessly to relax? This Sesshoumaru finds your ways of spending your own time to be quite pointless. Is this customary from where you come?” He was looking down his nose at her.

Great. That was a very good start for a very fine day. What was the next step? Jaken asking for a massage? Urk... the mental image made her cringe.

“It's called sport, you Mood-Killing machine. And, yes, it's common where I come from. People do sports for fun... and well, competition and self achievement too. Just like a game, but in which you have to hone your physical traits to prevail.”

“So, you were swimming in a cold lake, in the nude, for fun?” His expression was slightly incredulous, but mirth shone brightly in his golden eyes.

He... he was laughing at her! The nerve of this guy...

“That's it!” she growled, her fury overwhelming her usual sense of modesty. She rounded on the now shell-shocked youkai, jabbing a wet finger into his armored chest. “You are a very sad puppy!! When was the last time you smiled? Have you ever laughed in your long and boring life? Do you even know what 'having fun' means?”

“Miko...” he warned. But she was still ranting at him, nudging at his bone breastplate with her small pale digit to emphasize her point. He wondered idly what face she would make when she realized she was still naked and giving him full view over her rounded and full bosom.

A drop of water was growing on her erected right nipple, and he found himself fascinated as the clear liquid collected there without falling down. When the translucent and enticing gem started rolling on the underside of the pale mound of flesh, he followed its path with his eyes, his expression never wavering from his poker-face, as the miko had dubbed it. It was mocking him, showing him how an innocent shimmering pearl of water could do what he, The Great and Terrible Lord of the West, could not.

He wanted to bow down, almost reverently, and lick the offending droplet off of her skin. He wondered what she would taste like on this fine morning. Would she taste of fresh spring water, or of honey and flowers, like her scent had suggested?

He took a whiff of her essence into his nose with a discreet inhale, and something heavier went tickling his delicate palate. What was this scent? It was familiar, yet unusual for this particular mortal.

Ah yes... he remembered now. Heh. Cooling down indeed. He smirked, and she recoiled, slightly frightened by the unusual facial expression. This one meant death was close at hand, and she hoped it was not hers. His gaze penetrated her, making an uncontrollable shiver course through her spine.

“Is this sport you speak of also used as a way to vent sexual frustration?” he asked in a toneless voice.

She screeched, mortification and ire vying for dominance in her now addled mind.

“I'm a nineteen years old virgin, for crying out loud! How am I supposed to feel when I was to be married in a few weeks and I'm not even enjoying a little alone time with my groom to be! This whole thing is just so confusing! I don't even know if I love him anymore!” she blurted out.

And then she froze, her finger still pointed at him in between two pokes. Her blue eyes swirled with emotions as she realized what she had just said.

He almost regretted egging her on when silent tears rolled down her drying face. She looked like a lost child then, pale cheeks and wide blue pools of sadness locked on him.

A low growl escaped him and she jumped, waking up from her daze.

“Do not move,” he demanded, moving closer to her.

She started when his arms circled her naked form slowly, and her body was soon concealed behind his long sleeves. He wasn't touching her this much, she noticed, but only protecting the modesty she had forgotten to care about a few moments ago.

She blushed madly, mortification overwhelming her. She had been speaking to him for entire minutes in her birthday suit. Perhaps giving Jaken a massage would be less embarrassing?

“Brother,” he greeted nonchalantly, “what earned us the pleasure of your visit?” He heard the small intake of breath from the young miko and unconsciously brought her closer to him.

“What have you done to Kagome, you bastard!” the hanyou said in place of introduction.

“Nothing,” the youkai replied. The half-breed was closing on him, and it made him somewhat uncomfortable. The woman was as still as a statue in the circle of his arms, but he could smell the salted water escaping from her eyes.

“Kagome! What are you doing in this cold-blooded assassin's arms? Why are you staying here, you stupid wench?” Inuyasha seethed, anger making his voice hoarse.

“I'm helping him with something, Inuyasha... just... don't ask... keep faith in me... please,” she murmured. But the two brothers had heard her.

“Keep faith? Keep faith, you say? I can't believe this! You're a fucking human female and I've never seen him this close to anybody! You want her that bad, Sesshoumaru? What for? Are you merely curious? Are you going to fuck her senseless and then give her back to me like a second hand whore? Or are you going to kill her after you are finished with her? I refuse to marry used goods!!” He was nearly roaring each word now, and the inu felt her flinch at each of them.

Sesshoumaru took a slow, deep breath, calming himself. He was going to rip his left arm off if the whelp didn't learn to value his silence.

“The woman has her virtue still intact, Inuyasha,” he managed to articulate between clenched teeth.

“Yeah, like I'd believe you! You always wanted what I had, and now you've even took my female from me...” He was quickly interrupted by an angry low growl.

“Your stupidity knows no bounds, little brother. She is valuable as a person, even as a human being, she proved it time and again. And you dare impugn this Sesshoumaru's honor by implying he might want to rut with your future wife? You should know what is good for you and stop offending my sense of smell and sight with your presence, or I might want to correct the scenery by my own hands.” His eyes were swirling with barely contained wisps of crimson. A little more, and his patience would shatter like white light in a crystal.

The Miko in his arms shuddered again, but then determination filled her scent. She had made a decision, and hoped she wouldn't regret it. She turned to look her former love in the eyes.

“Inuyasha. I thought we had certain values in common, but you were always protecting your own interests, weren't you? What was I for you? A shard detector? Kikyo's replacement? A convenient way to overcome your loneliness? I am none of those things. If you don't love me enough to trust me, I don't think we should still plan to bond for life. I deserve to be loved,” she said, measuring each word. She was speaking with the deep recesses of her heart, and even if it meant finishing her life alone, she didn't want to live surrounded by lies.

She resumed her position, her forehead resting on the youkai's strong chest. She was tired, and she felt hollow and empty again, but her shoulders were somewhat lighter. She knew then that she had just relieved herself of a heavy weight. Falsehood was not in her Nature. As a Miko, she was the embodiment of Love. She had clung to her affections towards the hanyo for all these years, never looking at his flaws, but she should have known. He was too young in his mind to really know what true love meant, even if he was more than two centuries and a half old.

She shut herself off from the rest of the conversation, not caring about his taunting of his brother, trusting Sesshoumaru to protect her honor and modesty. She didn't even acknowledge when he picked her up, wrapping her into his warm tail, to bring her back inside his home.

Inuyasha was still hurling insults at them, but still she ignored him, reveling in the silent support of her monolithic friend.

And, slowly, her heart began to bleed. But, like with a fresh injury, the life fluid would bring the platelets that would help and mend the wound. One day, she would heal, and then, perhaps, she would learn to love and trust again.