InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Whispers Behind Rice Paper Walls ❯ chapter 10 ( Chapter 10 )

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

Chapter 10: A night of forgiveness.

Silver moonbeams played with the silken ebony of her hair, the mischievous rays of light caressing the dark waves like a lover.

He was still there, above her prone form, straddling her waist, his gaze lost with the depths of his thoughts. And while his attention seemed far away from the present, it would be a lie to assume everything was as it appeared.

In fact, Sesshomaru was thinking about none other than the female creature currently dozing off under him.

He allowed a wry smirk to grace his lips. She was the only woman he knew that would trust him enough to literally fall asleep while in his overbearing presence. Usually, bitches would tremble in fear or lust, depending on the circumstances - and on his mood.

Somehow - disturbingly enough - he felt insulted by this turn of events. His presence seemed to have no effect whatsoever on the little miko, if not for the comfort that allowed her to slumber peacefully mere inches from his nearly-naked body.

He grunted in displeasure, no one being there to witness this lapse in his personification of a marble statue.

Was it that she didn't think of him as a male? Was it her trust in him? Was it the fact that he had always showed such disdain towards her species?

Or was it her misconception about her own feminine appeal? After all, the dim-witted hanyo never told her how beautiful she was, or how smart she could be compared to her uneducated and prejudice-cloaked kind.

Thus, here she lay, the innocence of a child buried under a woman's skin.

Sesshomaru was known as a practical being, always weighing the pros and cons before making any decisions, his sharp mind never dulled by useless emotions like pity, or romantic attachment. He had learned compassion from Rin and - he grudgingly admitted - from his late father, but that was not a mere feeling. It was a virtue, an addition to the code dictating his every action.

The bonds between pack members were not of the same nature as what humans called love - it was stronger than that. Even while in love mortals could betray, hurt, or deceive. Such was inconceivable between inuyoukai of the same pack.

And Kagome had been claimed as pack by the most instinctual part of his being.

This was not surprising. After all, she was his half-brother's intended, or had been, and Inuyasha was pack too, even if he would never admit it aloud, even under the worst torture. They had all fought as allies against a common enemy. He had saved her life on numerous occasions. He had even revived her with Tenseiga, so really, she was running on borrowed time, just like Rin.

She had also earned his respect, which - knowing him - was a feat in and of itself.

The youkai that had attacked her that night had taken advantage of her worst weakness, namely her lack of self-esteem. That was unacceptable. Yet it was also an issue Sesshomaru found himself willing to help her overcome. After all, he loathed weaknesses - in himself, just as much as in those surrounding him.

Crouching silently at her side, he picked her up effortlessly, cradling her against his chest, before taking off gracefully, headed to his personal quarters. He moved like a ghost, his feet not even touching the wooden floors, as determination gleamed eerily in his golden irises.

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Something slightly rough and wet dragged along the sensitive skin of her neck and she shuddered, her heart beating a little faster, her body announcing to the male above her that she was beginning to regain consciousness.

Her long dark lashes fluttered, her heavy lids tightening minutely before revealing the cobalt depths of her eyes to the outside world. She blinked, twice, but her vision didn't change. Yes, he was still there, hovering above her...

“You are weak,” he intoned, boredom written all over his handsome face.

Her gaze widened. That was not at all what she expected to hear. What an utterly unromantic thing to say, considering they were lying naked in bed...

Oh my...

“You are naked,” she squeaked in reply.

He smirked.

“And so am I...” Deciding she might have to stop stating the obvious, her mind going helpfully in happy little circles, she shut her uncooperative mouth with an audible snap and looked up at him, hoping against hope that he would carry on the conversation for both of them.

Forgetting it was indeed Sesshomaru she was dealing with.

Crap.

And there she had thought for a millisecond that he would give her some sort of explanation...

Instead, he resumed his sensuous licking of her throat, and she found she couldn't prevent a moan from escaping her lips. This mouth of hers was taking too many liberties of late…she would have to remember to discipline it one day...

…later.

Not to mention the inuyoukai's own...wait, was he actually suckling her earlobe?

She pushed against him with both hands, amazed when he complied so easily, looking at her quizzically with his signature raised brow.

“What... what is going on?” she asked, breathing deeply and trying not to stutter like a fool.

“This Sesshomaru is preparing you so that when he takes you, it will be less painful,” he stated slowly, as if he was speaking to a five-year-old child. Not that one actually says such things to a child…

He leaned into her again, moonlit strands of silver silk caressing her shoulders, but she stopped him again, thankful that he was being patient with her. After all, if the youkai had decided he wanted her, there was nothing she could do to stop him, his physical strength being what it was.

“What is it, woman?” he grunted.

“Why are you doing this?” she inquired, sensing he had set a barrier around them to prevent others from hearing anything.

“You are weak,” he stated again, obviously annoyed at having to repeat himself. “To regain your strength, you need to belong. This Sesshomaru will take you, physically, although you were already his since the day you chose to die and he chose to revive you.”

“But... but wait!” she gasped. “I don't love you, and you don't love me either…that isn't a good enough reason for me…to give you…my...virginity…” Her voiced trailed away as her fear turned progressively into anger, the romantic side of her revolted by his cold logic.

“This Sesshomaru has no need for this foolishness mortals call love. You are pack, and that is the strongest attachment known among my kind.” He lowered his head again, despite her feeble struggles, and inhaled deeply at the junction between her neck and shoulder, his moistened appendage sampling her skin again.

She felt an incredible warmth against her naked breasts and realised it was his broad chest slightly rubbing against her own, her hardening nipples caressing the smooth expanse of his skin with each breath she took. Something soft but slightly rigid brushed against her inner thigh, and she exhaled sharply with a whimper of fright, realising just what part of his body that had been.

He chuckled darkly, the sound rumbling from his ribcage to hers, making her shudder.

“So shy, little miko,” he crooned, “and yet, you are already familiar with that Sesshomaru. Or must I refresh your failing mortal memory?”

What could have been insulting in any other circumstance escaped his thin lips like sweet honey, washing the remnants of her fright and turning her spine into marshmallow. She was doomed, she decided. And with this last spasm of coherent thought, her mind turned blank as the youkai started to roll his tongue over her left nipple.

She moaned when he started kneading her right bosom, a claw flicking the tip of it, sending flashes of pleasure through her willing body.

Her hands reached behind his neck, her fingers burrowing into the silk of his hair, gripping the hard column of flesh as if it was a lifeline and she was drowning... and, oh Kami, she was drowning indeed.

Her back arched in a bow of pleasure as his head moved lower, his tongue exploring the crevice just under her sternum. She hissed when he followed the line under her ribs, nearly giggling when he licked her side, fangs slightly grazing the sensitive area. He moved back to the middle of her tummy, twirling the wet appendage into her belly button with a playful smirk.

She sighed, finally allowing her body to relax. After all, if the stubborn male was going to have his ways with her, what was the point in resisting the pleasure of it? She didn't love him, it was true, but he was family (as weird as that sounded), and she trusted him. He would take care of her, protect her...what was love if not all these things meshed together? He had squashed all notions of sentimentality, but she suspected that clinging to such fleeting feelings was slightly absurd in this day and age...

Wherever her wayward mind had gone, she came abruptly back to herself when she felt something touching her most intimate place. She jumped, surprised by the spasm of pleasure the sensation of his fingers there sent down her spine. He dived into her soft curls, expertly finding the bundle of nerves hidden there.

She cried out then, her hips rocking up under the assault of his hand, allowing space for his other hand to slide behind her for support. A purr-like growl escaped from him as her fingers kneaded the hard muscles of his back, stroking down to his lumbar region and back up to his shoulders.

He looked directly into her eyes as one of his fingers entered her, the intrusion slightly uncomfortable but not painful, his thumb still dancing with her sensitive nub that made her pleasure skyrocket. She tensed at first, but then sighed and relaxed against him, the intensity of his eyes steadying her, anchoring her to him in an intimate way unparalleled by the mere physical sensations they were experiencing with their bodies.

It was here now, this sense of home she had been looking for.

It was not love - it was something else:

it was a sense of belonging -

- it was trust and acceptance -

- it was ageless and boundless -

- it was the here and now, forever and ever -

- it was inexplicable -

- and yet so simple.

Was it the 'pack' he had spoken of? She had no idea.

All she knew was - something in her soul, a void she didn't even know existed, had been filled in an instant. There had been no magic, no sorcery, no chant or ceremony, no powerful youki, not even miko powers. It was just…there, and now it was gone.

Without even realising it - she was herself again, completed in a way she had never imagined was possible.

A second tapered finger entered her, and the conflating imagery made her giggle. This caused him to raise one dark brow questioningly.

She beamed at him, her first true smile in a long while, and he felt as if his irises had been burned by the sun. She cupped his cheek affectionately and pulled him down for a kiss, a small chaste kiss on the lips, short but meaningful all the same.

And then he understood. She had accepted him too, had claimed him as pack, had branded his soul with the colours of hers, had filled his darkness with her light.

In one moment, she had known just what the once-cruel being had needed - to regain his honour, to be redeemed into the eyes of one of the beings he had wronged in the past.

It was a release, in a sense.

He growled, a low sound of pleasure and arousal emanating from him as he began to rub the tip of his now stiff member against her clitoris, coating it with the juices flowing from her dripping core. She buckled under him, groaning, her blunt nails digging into the flesh of his buttocks. He positioned himself with care between her legs, his face above hers, noses touching, breath mingling, silence deafening but words unnecessary.

And then he pushed forward, slowly, entering her, stretching her.

She stifled a cry, salty water collecting at the brim of her eyes, and bit into her lower lip, drawing a small droplet of crimson blood. He licked it away, demanding entrance between her lips, even as he slid further into her inner sanctum, their hips rocking together slightly. His kisses became furtive, his tongue greedy in its exploration of her mouth, as he fought to control the rest of his invasion.

“Quicker,” she breathed, and he complied, shortening her suffering with a hard thrust.

She bit his shoulder this time and he growled, a spike of pleasure coupled with pain shooting straight down his spine. He shuddered, straining to stay still, waiting for her to relax, to get used to his girth.

She managed to gain control of her breathing after a moment, turning her attention back to the expanse of skin at his neck, licking away the sheen of sweat that had formed, all the while marvelling at the smoothness of him.

How could so fierce a warrior have so soft a complexion?

“So supple,” she whispered into his pointed ear before suckling it, earning a groan of pleasure.

“So tight,” he rumbled in response, his voice resonating through her where they were joined, making her mewl with desire.

He couldn't stay still anymore. He started to move, out a little, and then in again, and then further out, then back in, the width of his strokes increasing with the increasing force of her response - those little noises at the back of her throat, moans and groans, whispers of his name like ethereal specters floating on the wind.

“Harder,” she rasped, and the sounds of his heavy sack slapping against her filled the room as he rode her with an inhuman speed, his irises bleeding crimson.

“Faster,” she cried, so unlike her sweet, retiring miko persona. Now she was wild, a beast, glowing like the sun, a beacon of untamed life and swirling power. She was Nature in its simplest incarnation, twined within this millenia-old dance.

And he was the monster in the guise of a man, possessing her, coating her in his scent, claiming her body as his and only his. He was the Alpha, the ruler, the provider, the protector, but most of all -

- he was the male, in all his glory.

All calm had disappeared from his usually so unreadable features, leaving only him, the inner being, that which he hid from the world, behind.

And Kami, but he was beautiful, with blood red eyes as his face contorted with pleasure, sharp fangs protruding from his mouth, jagged stripes barring his aristocratic cheekbones, his curtain of silver hair shining like woven moonbeams as it encased their writhing forms.

She called his name as she climaxed, her voice raw and heavy. Her inner muscles milked him until he came too, howling like the dog he was, shuddering with his hot, rapid release. His shaft swelled, eliciting more moans of pleasure from her.

“Sesshomaru?” she breathed, voice hoarse as surprise coursed through her. She gently caressed the moon-shaped mark on his forehead, trying to make sense of why he was still tight within her.

He froze, his eyes widening minutely, a barely visible sign of his own stupefaction.

“Hn,” he grunted. He rolled over, taking her with him, their bodies still connected. He hadn't expected this, but it didn't matter. She wasn't in her fertile season.

He would have to find some way to avoid intercourse during those times.

She relaxed against his broad chest, caressed him absently, waiting for the 'phenomenon' to go down. He rested his clawed hands on her back, one finger playing with an ebony strand of her hair as the other enjoyed the feeling of her soft skin. Eventually, she fell asleep in this position, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she drifted away into her dreams.

He lay still, his body calming but not giving in to the temptations of sleep, and he guarded her unconscious form until the morning - and a new day - would dawn.