Taken | By : Xakana Category: InuYasha > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 4108 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story. |
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
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