Adult-FanFiction.org : Inuyasha / Yashahime

Sweet Dreams	By : northstar Category: InuYasha > Het - Male/Female > Sessh?maru/Rin > Sessh?maru/Rin Views: 8332 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Sweet Dreams
- 1
Disclaimer: The
characters of InuYasha are not mine,
they are property of Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakukan,
Yomiuri TV, Sunrise, and Viz. I do not make any money from the writing of
this story.

Warning: NC17

[A/N] Written for InuE�s
Halloween porn party on LJ. Also collaborated with
Helena Markos who did a wonderful pic for the story. Thanks goes to Wicked Oni for beta'ing!

=#= Sweet Dreams =#=

She gives a little cry, moving restlessly in her sleep. It
is enough to startle him out of deep contemplation, a trancelike state of mind
where he lets his thoughts drift as they will. It is the closest he ever comes
to dreaming; so for a moment he is disoriented as he registers the cool weight
of the foggy night air against his face, the quiet sounds of the forest, the
warm heat of Rin�s body snuggled against his thigh.
She makes another sound, her forehead furrowing in
concentration as her sleeping mind wrestles with its current dream.
Realizing that it is her and not some impending danger that
brought him to attention, he relaxes marginally, giving their surroundings a
cursory scan with his senses before settling back against the tree and
returning his gaze to her.
�Mmm,� she mumbles, one hand
curling into the material of his fur, the other twitching slightly as her
fingers flutter against the fabric of his pants leg, and beneath that, against
the skin of his thigh.
With a gentle sweep of his finger pads, he smoothes away the
wrinkles in her brow. He ignores the tingling in his leg where the nerve
endings under her touch have come alive in hopeful anticipation of more
stimulation. He threads his fingers through hers, removing her hand from where
it has strayed dangerously close to his groin.
�All is well, Rin,� he states
quietly, giving her a reassuring squeeze.
At the sound of his voice, she stirs with a whimper, nuzzles
her face into his fur, inhales deeply, and settles into a deeper sleep with a
soft sigh.
He smiles, sweetly bemused by the fact that she takes
comfort in his presence.
Her easy acceptance of him is so deceptively carefree that
he is struck, at odd times like this, by how different she is from everyone he
as ever known.
Who else would dare cozy up next to him and fall sound
asleep, trusting that he won�t harm them while they are vulnerable?
How long had it been since he was touched by a female who
required nothing from him in return? How long had it been since anyone touched him without ulterior
motives in mind? How long had it been since he allowed anyone close enough to be that familiar with his person?
And, even rarer, that his touch is received without fear in return?
No one, not even a
female youkai with greater strength than his own,
would trust him so blindly.
Rin.
�Malakathandraba,� she mutters
darkly, her face screwing up in an irritated frown. Her fingers slip from his
as her other hand curls into a fist. More incoherent grumbling follows as she
throws a leg over his and clings to the outside of his thigh.
He freezes, caught between the mirth bubbling up within him
and his preoccupation with how deeply between his legs her little hand is
burrowing. With a quick urgency he catches at her wrist, trying to gently drag
her hand away from its determined course. It finally takes a firm grip and a
shift of his position to deter her, and it is a testament to how deeply within
the hold of her dream Rin is as she doesn�t even
respond to his interference.
With a dark look down at the blithely slumbering girl, he
restrains her hand a moment longer, noting with a frown that his heart beat is
slightly elevated and there is a suspicious fluttering in his abdomen.
I have been without a
female companion far too long, he thinks to himself, if the innocent cuddling of a human girl child has the ability to
excite me.
With an abrupt little start, he realizes that it has been a long time. Ever since the
beginning of his quest to find his father�s sword Tessaiga,
he has been celibate, at first forsaking any distractions in his single minded
pursuit of power, then later forsaking any other female company as Rin�s scent became the only female scent he wished to have
on his skin. Rather than bother with the complications of such entanglements,
he has forgone mating, knowing that any female youkai
he bedded would see Rin as a potential rival for his
affections.
But now�
Rin isn�t a little girl anymore.
What started as reluctant tolerance on his part when she
started seeking him out every night is now a kind of habitual contentment with
her presence at his side. What had been out of the ordinary is now part of the
normalcy of their everyday lives. She sleeps next to him and that is that; he
has ceased to question her right to do so.
As a little girl, Rin�s insistence
on sleeping with him had been an oddity.
As a young woman in her late teens, Rin�s
nightly snuggling against him is beginning to arouse his passion.
He will have to do something about it soon. His
preconception that Rin is still a child is losing out
against the seductive pull of his instincts. The idea of touching Rin in less than innocent ways has lost its shock value to
him. He has forgiven, or more likely conveniently forgotten, the fact that she
is still very much a human.
He reaches down, running his fingers through the dark silk
of her hair, and sees only Rin; with her brilliant
smile and easy laughter, with her resilient energy and bright enthusiasm. With
intentional absent mindedness, he lets his hand stray, brushing a feather light
touch along the delicate tendrils that mark her hairline at the nape of her
neck. Her skin is like warm satin, alive and tender beneath his explorations.
For a moment, he lets himself toy with the hemmed edge of the neckline of her
kimono, tempting himself with a view of the beginnings of her cleavage.
She twitches in her sleep, and he instantly stills,
wondering if he has been caught. As she slumbers on, oblivious, he removes his
hand with a sigh, rearranging the position of his legs to accommodate his
fledging erection.
Instinctively she clings tighter, responding to the
loosening of her grip his movement has caused. She is firmly wrapped around his
leg now, her arms embracing the column of his thigh, her legs wound around his
muscular calf. Her cheek is still cushioned by the plushness
of his fur, but her forehead, the bridge of her nose, and the softness of her
lips are pressed against his thigh and he can feel the movement of her mouth on
his skin, through the fabric, as she talks silently in her sleep.
�Rin,� her name slips from his
lips without conscious thought, and his voice is deeper, huskier than normal.
He bites back a moan as she snuggles closer, her little
hands burrowing upward as she presses her round, firm breasts so tightly
against his leg he can feel the tips of each of her nipples. Her legs wind and
clench around his, and he can feel the texture of the wiry dark curls of her
mound grinding against the sensitive outer skin of his knee.
�Rin�� he says her name again, but
this time the single syllable is soft, half formed as it eases from his throat.
The tips of her reaching fingers brush against the material at the crotch of
his pants; and it is like she has ignited a fire in his groin.
He grows fully hard, his erection mere heartbeats away from
her touch. His heart catches in his throat, and his stomach churns with
electric excitement as he holds himself rigidly still, waiting to see what she
will do next.
She flutters her fingers, making the silk whisper butterfly
caresses all along the hyper sensitive, velvety softness of his skin.
He grits his teeth, his throat rumbling with a growl.
He startles, badly, when she gives a snarly
little growl of her own.
�Grrr! Jaken-sama!�
she scolds, her hands fisting again.
Like that, the spell is broken, and some of the tension
radiating from his form dissipates. With firm decisiveness he pushes her hands
away from his groin, knowing that he does not want her fists anyway near
delicate body parts when she is angry, even in her sleep. He begins the long
process of extracting his leg; prying her legs open as he wrenches his calf
free.
�Sesshoumaru-sama?� she queries
sleepily, finally awakened by his less than gentle handling.
�Move Rin,� he commands without
compunction, infinitely grateful as she willingly lets him rearrange her limbs.
Propping her back up on the softness of his fur, he bends his nearest leg at
the knee, shielding himself from any further explorations of her hands.
He watches with half parts irritated frustration and
thankful relief as she swiftly lapses back into sleep.
�Obviously, I am the only one affected here,� he complains
to himself, his eyes shining with gruff affection as he smoothes down one of
her fly away hairs.
�Sesshoumaru-sama?� she responds
groggily. �Did you say something?�
He looks down at her in bemusement, temporarily speechless.
He really thought she was asleep. When only silence answers her query, she
cracks one dark eye open, staring at him with drowsy
interest.
�Sesshoumaru-sama?� she asks
again.
�Go back to sleep Rin,� he replies
at last, finding his voice.
She gives a jaw cracking yawn and lazily opens the other
eye. She yawns again, her jaw giving a little pop as she blinks up at him,
trying to bring his face into focus. With growing awareness, she props herself
up on an elbow and studies him with astute intuition.
�Is something wrong?� she tries for conversation, ignoring
his prior command like it was nothing more than a suggestion.
�Rin�� he thinks better of
ordering her to do anything, knowing it will definitely start an argument. �It
is nothing, Rin. I was merely commenting out loud to
myself.�
Her dark eyes sweep unhurriedly over his expression; and he
fights the urge to turn his face away, fearing that she will see more than he
wants to her, knowing that if he does turn away, she will assume correctly that
he is hiding something. There are moments, such as these, that he wishes she
did not know how to read him so well.
�You don�t usually do that,� she points out after a time,
stifling another yawn. There is a casual note in her tone that suggests she is
going to drop the subject. With drooping eyelids, she sits up and stretches her
arms upward, lifting her breasts invitingly into his line of sight, and despite
himself, he cannot look away.
She drops her arms, a look of puzzlement ghosting across her
face as she catches the lust darkening his expression. This time, he does turn
away, embarrassed at his own lack of self control.
�Sesshoumaru-sama?
What�s bothering you?� she presses, once more suspicious.
�It is nothing you need to concern yourself with Rin,� he answers, hoping she will take the hint in his tone
and let it go.
�But�� she starts, a shadow of hurt clouding her eyes. Then
she shrugs, as if forcefully shedding her worry, and crawls towards him, intent
on snuggling closer to him. Her palm lands on his thigh, but the contact lasts
for less than a second as he jerks out from under her so fast her eyes don�t
even register a blur.
She sits, stupefied, for a long moment, staring
disbelievingly at the place where he�d just been. She twists around, blinking
up at him with surprised shock.
Mentally berating himself for hisA
part of him registers the fact that his still hard erection is now at the same
level as her face. He hopes desperately that he will be lucky enough for her
not to notice.
To no avail.
Her dark eyes fasten on his pants, and widen slightly as she
looks at the reaction she unintentionally caused. He can see the workings of her
mind slowly processing as she closes her mouth and a rosy blush blossoms across
her face.
�Oh,� she comments dumbly, staring with open fascination.
He can feel her eyes on him like a physical touch, and his
erection twitches as his mind is caught and held by the fantasy of her placing
her mouth on him and tasting him.
Her nervous swallow is audible in the thickening silence.
Her face and neck are bright red; and he comes back to himself with a rude
start; realizing he is just standing there, letting her ogle him.
Mortification sweeps through him. For all of her unusual
upbringing; Rin has led a sheltered life and now,
here he is, exposing her to something sordid. He pivots on the ball of his
foot, intent only on fleeing with what remains of his dignity.� �
He is unprepared when her hand comes out and clasps onto his
pant leg, stilling his movement. Her action catches him so off guard that, when
she gently turns his hips back towards her, he yields to her promptings.
She continues to stare, her hands restlessly clenching
together in her lap.
�Is that because of me?� she asks softly, her face a mixture
of captivation and embarrassment.
He looks down at her, wondering why he has not already fled
the vicinity.
Flee? his pride mocks him for his last thought. His usual
arrogance returns. He is a taiyoukai. He does not run away from anyone, especially not a
young girl.
His posture stiffens slightly as his resolve hardens.
�Yes,� he replies truthfully, wondering what she will do
next.
Her blatant gaze is enough to make him uncomfortable, but
when one of her hands drifts upward, towards him, he almost balks and runs
anyways.
She sees his reaction, and checks the wayward wandering of
her hand.
�May I?� she whispers tentatively, her eyes flickering up to
meet his guarded gaze.
It is his turn to swallow nervously. But, with a curt nod,
he gives her permission.
Her gaze falls to his groin and with fingers that shake slightly, she reaches out and touches him.
He fights to stay rigid and unmoving, consciously
controlling the exhale of the breath in his lungs, feeling his pulse race as
his heartbeat kicks into overdrive. He clenches his teeth against the low moan
that threatens to spill out of his throat as her fingers drag the silk across
the head of his erection with their downward movement. Through the fabric, her
touch is phantom soft, a teasing almost-caress, and it is enough to send waves
of hot pleasure rippling through his body.
She steals a glance at his face; he wonders if she can read
how much she is affecting him by the little concentration lines across his
forehead, the tight set of his lips, the over bright gleam to his amber eyes.
She studies him a moment longer, an expression of understanding dawning on her
face. With an obvious carefulness that is at once endearing and infuriating,
she traces the shape and curve of him through his pants.
He lets his eyes fall shut; trusting her to be gentle,
knowing that the dual stimulation of feeling her touch and seeing her fingers
explore him will soon be too much for even his self control.
Her fingers pause, withdraw, and then she cups him in her
palm, the tips of her fingers curling under the base to brush against his
testes.
He almost comes undone.
Instinctively, unknowingly, he shifts his weight forward,
pressing himself into her hand, blindly seeking more of her innocent, sensual
touch. For a moment, the feel of her against him softens in surprise, then mercifully increases. With a long, slow stroke, she
eases her hand up his shaft.
The breath in his throat catches. Her touch falls still, and
the silence thickens.
He looks down at her with worry, and meets her wide
eyes�that are shining with tentative wonder. And there is a soft heat to her
cheeks that is not a blush, but the first stirrings of desire.
Her fingers shift, closing around the width of him. Watching
his face, she gives a small squeeze, her mouth opening slightly with a gentle
sigh of delight as his eyes flutter shut and his head fall back in response.
There is the hushed sound of her licking her lips before she
speaks.
�I have seen the wild animals with their mates, and it
always makes me uncomfortable because in my dreams�Sesshoumaru-sama
is doing the same things with me. My body�I always wake up craving something,
like a rare fruit or a sweet dessert; except I know it is something I�ve never
tasted before. I know I hunger for something that I�ve never had, because it is
something I�d never ever forget about,� she pauses, her eyes unsure, her words
hesitant. She makes a small sound of frustration deep in her throat.
He stares at her, disbelief written across his face, his own
eyes wide with shocked surprise. From deep inside of him is an upwelling of
warm, sweet excitement, and the region of his heart expands with unchecked
affection for her.
She falters, looking to him for encouragement to bolster her
flagging courage. It is a moment before his face shows anything other than
shock, but as his eyes soften to a shimmering, molten gold and his lips lift
into a beautiful, unfettered smile, she bravely forages on.
�I understand that it�s important�not that anyone told me it�s important, but that I just know that it is,� she tries to explain,
covering her hand over her heart, �Because of what I feel. Because
it�s Sesshoumaru-sama
and�me.�
She looks at him again, gauging his reaction. He tamps down
on his elation; desperately hoping that that he is showing enough enthusiasm for her to continue without scaring her by
showing too much. He exhales with a
slow hiss as her fingers rove over his erection with a touch that is sweetly
intimate and a tiny bit possessive. He begins to recite the names of all his
ancestors in his head like a mantra. For her, he is willing to be infinitely
patient, but even for him there is a
limit to his stamina.
�I never thought�I mean, because I�m�human�I never thought Sesshoumaru-sama would, um, ever feel that way�� she trailed off, peaking up at him through her
bangs.
The uncertainty in her eyes is enough to make him wish there
were some enemy, any enemy he could
slay to make it all better; but this feeling of inadequacy within her is no
one�s fault but his own.
He takes a deep breath, blocks out the clamoring of his
body�s awakened needs, and takes time to repair the damage he has wrought. With
delicate, aching tenderness, he traces the familiar and exquisitely beautiful
features of her face with one clawed finger.
�Do you know what I see before me?� he asks softly. He waits
until she gives a quick shake of her head, the tears pooling in her dark eyes
making them shine so that they gleam like polished onyx. The sight of her vulnerability
spears through him like a lance, the guilt that he is the one who caused her hurt growing in his chest. Before his
pride can silence him, before his inherent caution can edit his thoughts, he
lets himself speak the truth.
�I do not see inferiority,� he admits as his touch traces
the contours of her face. �I do not see weakness or ugliness or fragile
mortality. What I see, Rin, when I look at you, is
strength and beauty and grace. Your presence beside me is worth the sight of
your smile, the scent of your body, the sound of your happiness. When I look at
you Rin, I do not judge you for what you are; I do
not fault you for what you are not. I can only see you as yourself; you have
made me blind to all else. I cannot say that I have given up my low opinion of
humanity; but you are my Rin, and you will never be
anything other than that to me.�
He finishes, instantly regretting how much he has just
revealed. He waits for her to condemn him, like so many others who have lusted
after his body, for being weak and emotional and less than cold perfection. He
fears, in the darkest part of his being, that she will think less of him for
his confession, for the betrayal of the morals he has professed for so long,
even though she is the sole exception.
When her ridicule never comes, he realizes belatedly that
something like that would be out of character for Rin.
But when she fails to smile at his words of praise, her tears growing more
frequent instead of abating, he can only stand there as she cries and feel
completely at a loss. He said what he did to forestall her tears not cause new ones
She seems to sense, through her own preoccupation, his
growing frustration with her crying. She dashes the last of her tears away with
the heel of her palm and gifts him with a watery, brilliantly radiant smile.
Abruptly taken aback, he tries to look away, but somehow,
his gaze is transfixed by the glowing joy that illuminates her face. More
insanely, he feels a rising heat under the skin of his face that just might be
the start of a blush.
With a sheer act of will, he pulls his eyes away and does
his best to hide his abrupt confusion. Already off guard with his shocking
revelation of his private feelings, he is even more affected by the flip flop
of hers. He is almost a hundred years
her senior, and yet he seems to be the only one feeling awkward and vulnerable.
She has him at a disadvantage and he hates
that. Even for her, even for the one he treasures most, he will not tolerate what he perceives as a weakness. Willing to make
a retreat rather than endure any more, he makes to leave.
Again, she proves how well she knows him as her next words
fall from her lips.
�I�Sesshoumaru-sama?
Will you stay? Please? I�I�m sorry I made it so you had to say those things. Rin knows�I know, how hard it is�I mean, for you to say�I know you care about me. You always
protect me, and your eyes soften when you look at me, and you�re always
considerate in small ways that you don�t think I notice. You remember what I like
and always slow down when I�m tired and take care of me even before I know I�m
sick. You always let me sleep across your lap and on your fur; you put up with
me when I�m grouchy and never chastise me when I�ve done something stupid or
silly. I always knew that you cared
about me; but to hear you say it�that
you think I�m beautiful��
Her voice trails off as she covers her mouth with her hand,
stifling a hiccupping sob.
�I never thought I�d hear those words from you. I knew, but I could never completely trust that it was true. My worries are
silly�� He makes a small derogatory sound in his throat and she responds with a
weak laugh. �But I still had them.�
She looks up at him with alarming frankness in her gaze,
inhales deeply, and continues.
�I love you, Sesshoumaru-sama. You mean everything to me. I hope�I wish�I want you to embrace me�you know�like
the animals do. Will you�do that for me?� she stammers shyly, her gaze
downcast.
He stares down at her dark head of hair, trying to
comprehend the mind boggling event of his
Rin�laughing, smiling, sweet
but na�ve Rin�propositioning him for sex. Illogically, his legs suddenly give out and he sinks
not so gracefully to the ground as he lands on his backside with a hard thud. He doesn�t even register annoyance
or embarrassment at his clumsiness, preoccupied as he is by her sudden request.
He continues to stare at her in a mixture of disbelief and bewilderment, the
moment so surreal that he can�t even form a coherent response.
She peeks at him, a hot blush flaming along her neck and
face, waiting nervously and impatiently for his answer. Growing bolder, she
openly stares back at him, belatedly realizing that she has completely baffled
him.
�No?� she prompts timidly.
His mouth opens and closes, but no sound comes out. He
clears his throat, props himself up into a slightly more distinguished sitting
position, and tries to find his voice.
�I, Sesshoumaru, would be honored
to do so,� he manages to formally respond with slightly rumpled dignity.
His features shift into a quelling frown as an impish, giddy
smile steals across her face and her dark eyes fill with amusement, relief, and
affection. She covers her mouth with her hand, but it is not quite enough to
stifle the sounds of her laughter. His expression darkens as she gives up
trying to hide it and lets her giggles free.
She reaches out, gently, and traces the foreboding frown on
his lips.
�I�m not laughing at you,� she chides him with light
teasing. �I�m laughing because I�m so happy; I�m going to explode with it if I don�t
let it out somehow.�
His affronted anger dissipates with her words, like she
intended, and it is with a small grimace that he waits for her mirth to die
down.
�Done?� he asks with mock severity, eyeing her with feigned
irritation.
She reaches out, a silly, sweet grin still on her face, and
touches his lips again. The nervousness in her mood abruptly dies and he
watches with acute fascination as the fiery heat of desire ignites in her dark
gaze. Like a soft puff of perfume, the scent of her arousal blossoms between
them.
He feels his erection twitch as he imagines laying her down
on the thick grass, unwrapping her body from her
kimono, and leisurely exploring every inch of her with touch and tongue. So
engrossed is he, as he dreams about what he will do to her at his leisure down
to the minutest detail, that when he senses her movement towards him, he
responds in kind without conscious thought.�
She, overly eager to begin yet hindered by her inexperience, meets him
half way in a lunge that threatens to topple both of them over with its
suddenness. With a muffled umph, their noses
collide as he jerks back in affronted surprise.
�Oww,� she grumbles as she fingers
her nose.
�Indeed,� he replies, nonplussed.
His eyes are mildly reproachful as he waits for her to
finish exploring the damage to her face. He pauses a moment longer, watching as
her hands drop and their eyes lock again. Then he leans in slowly, his entire
attention on her. With much enthusiasm and little finesse, she meets him once
more and he is forced to capture her chin between finger
and thumb before she does serious harm to both of them.
�Like this,� he instructs, his voice settling into its usual
imperial, commanding tone.
Deliberately, with firm gentleness, he guides her face
towards him. Holding her still with the ulterior motive of allowing himself a
moment to memorize the eager, awed look on her expressive face, he drops a kiss
on her upturned lips. With unhurried dominance he refuses to release his grip
on her, holding her captive as he teases her with feathery butterfly kisses
until her lips part of their own violation. A silent rumble of pleased approval
vibrates deep in his chest as he seizes the moment and slips his tongue inside,
pressing the mobile tip against the smooth enamel of her teeth. His fingers on
her chin halt her instinctive start, and after a pause, she makes an
inquisitive sound in her throat and opens her mouth for him.
�Mmm,� he praises her as he
cautiously lets go of her chin and uses his hands to cup her cheeks, tilting
her head back as he deepens the kiss.
�Nnn,� she responds as the soft
vibrations of her hum tickle his tongue where it is touching hers.
Enticed by the sinuous slither of his tongue against hers,
she brings hers into play, daring to reach out and tentatively place a hand
against his jawline. Bolder still, she traces the
sharp edges of his teeth until she reaches his fang. She encourages him to angle
his head with her hand, and when he obliges her, she runs her tongue over its
deadly edge.
Afraid she will involuntarily hurt herself; he pulls back,
breaking the kiss. His gold eyes are soft with warm appraisal as he traces the
contours of her face with one errant thumb. Her eyes are mirrors of his own; a
kind of overwhelmed disbelief caught in the pools of her dark irises as she
mimics his caresses and explores his face with gentle touch.
�Are all inuyoukai so beautiful?�
she asks inquisitively, the honest and open wonder in her gaze making him tuck
away the reflexive, sardonic reply that comes immediately to mind. Capturing
one of her hands in his, he turns her wrist to him and kisses the slightly
elevated pulse there. With wicked intention, he nips and suckles the sensitive
spot as he gives her question some a serious thought. Distracted but too
tenacious to let him slip by without giving her an answer, she watches the
movements of his mouth with fascination for a long moment before prompting
again for a reply.
�The white taiyoukai among the inu have always been considered desirable. Their youkai markings show clearly against their pale fur, and so
a white taiyoukai with striking markings is
considered the most attractive.�
�So the rest of your kind thinks you�re the most beautiful
too?� she queries with interest.
Sesshoumaru graces her with a
small smile, but the curve has a cruel, sardonic twist to it and his eyes are
cold. The cruelty in his expression is a direct contrast to the gentleness of
his touch on her skin.
�They did,� he supplies with clipped words, providing no
further elaboration.
�So now they don�t?� she dares to ask, gauging his reactions
not by his face but by the movement of his fingers at her wrist.
�Now they respect my power more than they covet my beauty,�
he almost snaps, the tension in his form communicating his discomfort with the
current subject.
Rin studies him a moment longer
with astute dark eyes. �They hurt you, didn�t they?�
She watches without saying anything as his face settles into
a smooth, beautiful mask. His entire being was one of flawless grace�as
ethereal and pure as new fallen snow�but the burning, icy hatred deep in his
gold eyes tells a different story.
�Among the inu�in my mother�s
court�the weak beg and grovel to the strong. My father spared not a moment to
shield me from their greedy lust, and my mother was the centre of court�and
completely blind to anything they did not want her to see. I was a pretty pet
they abused at their leisure. Until I killed them, that is.�
When she sits mute and attentive, her eyes and face holding
no condemnation, he dares to continue.
�They should have remembered that in the case of my mother�s
line, the markings are warnings of venomous abilities. After that, I�disposed
of anyone who dared to touch me lecherously. My mother despaired of ever
finding any inuyoukai female who�d dare to mate with
me after my reputation grew quite gruesome with exaggeration and gossip.�
Rin�s eyes drop to where his thumb
ghosts back and forth, back and forth over her racing pulse in an unconscious
gesture of agitation. After a long silence, she tries to pull her wrist away
but he doesn�t let her. His tension grows as her expression turns grim, her
inward thoughts contorting her face into a carnival mask of disgust and regret.
He waits for her to voice her thoughts with a mixture of anxiety and
defensiveness, his grip on her arm like steel as he refuses to relinquish his
prize. She comes to some kind of resolution as she looks back up to meet his
neutral, empty eyes.
�I�m just like them�.seeing your beauty and feeling desire,�
she chokes out haltingly, her revulsion with herself apparent. �I don�t want to
make you mate with me. I don�t want to be like them,� she continues with all
seriousness.
He cannot help the bark of startled laughter that spills out
of his throat as he immediately rejects her words. Catching the look of irate
anger darkening her face, he is quick to correct her misunderstanding.
�Dear Rin, you have not enough
cruelty in your entire being to even begin to be like them. And you cannot make
me �do� anything. Tell me, oh sweet one, what you would have done if I�d said
no?� he asks with relaxed confidence.
�Been really disappointed,� she replies with slight
disgruntlement.
�And would you have tried anything underhanded to get your
way? Like using trickery, bribery�maybe manipulation?� he inquires, his slight
frown offset by the light of humor in his eyes.
�Of course not!� she exclaims with ruffled affront.
�Then you are not like them, in any way. Whatever I chose,
it is of my own will and whatever I do, it is of my own volition,� he
concludes, his tone indicating that he considers the matter solved.
�Then you really do want to mate with me?� Rin asks shyly.
Sesshoumaru smiles, a silky,
wicked smile of anticipation and hunger.
�Yes,� he replies simply.
His heated, unhurried gaze roams her body, the direction of
his thoughts clear as he imagines what her naked body looks like under her
kimono. A hot blush stains her face as she glances away, her hand brushing away
invisible dirt from her lap. Under the pad of his thumb, her erratic,
fluttering pulse is like a captive butterfly, igniting awake the predatory
nature within him. With an urge that is entirely male and animalistic and has
nothing to do with pretending to be human, his eyes drop and lock onto the
creamy, slender expanse of her neck.
�Will you indulge me?� he asks with heavy lidded, languid
gold eyes. �Will you yield your throat to me?�
Her pulse gives a hard throb against his touch, and the
slightly bitter spice of fear sours her scent, but her expression is brave as
she nods and swallows compulsively.
�O-okay,� she replies gamely, scooting closer as she looks
up at him trustingly.
The keen edge of his hungry smile softens as amusement
blunts his urgency. His eyes glows slightly with
molten warmth, a deceptively mild beauty that masks the turbulent heat within.
With a sinful smile and exaggerated care, he lifts her chin up with the tip of
one deadly claw. His possessive stare roams her exposed skin like a brand; a
conqueror overlooking what he is confident will soon be his. The smooth ivory
of his claw brushes along the top of her shoulder as he plays idly with the
neckline of her kimono.
�Do you treasure this kimono especially?� he questions her
with pointed interest, and it is only after she replies to the negative that
she realizes why he asked as he shreds the hem from neck to wrist along the
sleeve with one clean stroke.
Instinctively, her free hand comes up to hold the material
up before it falls far enough to expose her breast. Her eyes wide with shock,
she mutely watches him turn her wrist upward and places a chaste kiss against
her racing pulse. She catches a glimpse of his wicked, pleased smile as he
nibbles and licks his way up the tender skin of her inner forearm, pausing at
the crook of her elbow to swirl his tongue over the sensitive spot there.
Nibble, nibble, lick; his slow advancing caresses tighten her nipples until he
can see the tips through the silk of her clothing. Beneath his touch he can
feel the trembling of her body as the slightest tinges of fright and unease
spike her desire to full, wet arousal. By the time he is placing a tender,
teasing kiss on the swell of her shoulder, he can taste the musk of her sex in
the air, so that it lingers on his tongue like something sweet and tangy. Like
something delectable.
He smiles and she shivers in response.
The silent brush of his breath against her skin prickles it
with goosebumps. He trails the heat of his exhale
over the curve of her nape and neck, so that his lips hover right above the
beating pulse in her throat. He pauses there a moment longer and delights in
the subtle, anticipatory tension that tightens her body.
�Mine,� he purrs arrogantly before closing his teeth
delicately around her flesh.
He lets her feel the press of his teeth good and slow before
he closes his lips around them and suckles the captive skin there hard enough
to bruise. With precise control, he restrains himself from doing more and lifts
his head far enough to see the angry red mark he has left on her otherwise
flawless skin. His lips curl into their pleased, predatory smirk again as he
nuzzles under her jawline back to the lobe of her
ear. Taking the soft flesh of it between his teeth, he worries it a moment
before planting a healing kiss there and tracing the outer curve of her ear
with the glistening tip of his tongue. Blowing a gentle breath and chuckling
throatily as she shudders with pleasure, he looks down with a heavy lidded,
gold and crimson gaze to where her hand has gone lax, allowing the shredded
material of her kimono to slip far enough to expose the dusky, hard tip of her
breast.
Deliberately he nuzzles and nips his way down the column of
her throat, along her collarbone, allowing himself to press his face into the
tender hollow of her shoulder and inhale deeply of her musky scent before
brushing his lips lightly over the top of her breast. Belatedly she moves to
cover herself, but he is quicker than she and grabs her wrist with his other
hand to forestall her gesture of modesty.
�You need not be ashamed,� he tells her as he presses his
face against the impossible soft, silken feel of her breast. His eyes flutter
closed involuntarily as he savors the contact against his cheek a moment
longer, loving the feel and scent of her flooding his senses until all he is
aware of is her.
�You have given yourself to me, to cherish with love. If you
had displeased me in any way, I would have declined your offer, so do not think
for a moment that I find you lacking. Unless your reluctance to bear yourself
to me is because you are regretting your sudden boldness�?� he let his question
trail off, waiting with growing apprehension for her answer.
Through the contact of his cheek pressed tightly against
her, he feels the enthusiastic shake of her head and allows himself a hidden,
rueful, relieved smile as he realizes he�d actually been afraid she�d reject
him. Nuzzling his nose into the plush curves of her chest, he keeps his face
turned away from her until the revealing vulnerability of his relief is
replaced by the intense hunger of his body. He is careful to not look up into
her face as he gently closes his lips around her nipple and suckles her,
knowing that the expression on his face might truly scare her.
He lets go of her wrist and wraps his arm around her naked
back in one unconscious motion as he tongues the tight little peak in his
mouth. His male ego purrs like a kitten as she gives a sweet, involuntary moan
of pleasure and hugs his head against her in a silent demand for more. With
knowing intent, he brushes the slick hardness of his teeth back and forth over her
nipple, tormenting her so that her fingernails clench into his scalp.
�Do you love me?� he asks in a dark, wicked, sultry voice as
he drops punctuated kisses down the swell of one breast, in the valley between,
and up the virgin flesh of the other.
�Y-yes,� she gasps out as she waits with breathless
anticipation for him to reach her other nipple.
�Let me hear you say it,� he entices her as he traces a
delicate circle around the aureole with the tip of his tongue.
�I love you,� she manages as the brush of his hot exhale
tightens the tip further until it is a bright, aching bud. Teasingly, he wets
it with a little tickle of his tongue then blows a gentle puff across the
glistening flesh, watching with sardonic amusement on his face as her nipple
flushes to an almost angry red.
�My name,� he demands unrelentingly, �Say my name.�
�Sess-shoumaru,� she answers; her
voice full of urgent pleading. �Please��
�Tell me, sweet one,� he encourages her while he torments
her flesh, �Tell me what you need.�
With an inaudible moan of demand, she tries to pull his head
to her, but he resists easily with a throaty, husky chuckle.
�Tell me,� he teases.
�Kiss me�here,�
she pants out impatiently, her shy reserve melting away under his goading.
A silky growl of approval thrums in her throat as he latches
on to her nipple and eases the ache of her flesh with long hard pulls of his
mouth on her. The grip of her long slender fingers in his silvery hair is
impressive as she hangs on to him, almost as if she is
afraid he will leave her stranded and hungry. It is enough to make him give
another rumbling chuckle, and the deep vibrations from his laugh makes her arch
into his mouth as he uses tongue and teeth and lips to plays with her.
Switching nipples, he stimulates the other until the almost excessively rough
nips and suckles of his mouth on her has her excited to the point she is
panting for air, her small round body shining with a thin sheen of sweat. Too
tempted by chance to see her naked and aroused to deny himself, he lays her down
into the soft grass and sits, gazing down at her. Immediately she reaches for
him, expecting him to follow her down. Catching hold of her hands, he soothes
her with light caresses along the sensitive skin of her palms.
�Let me�� he tries to articulate as the sight of her,
flushed rosy and bare to her naval, steals away his ability to even think.
�Let me look at you,� he grits out as he has to clench his
teeth against the sudden urge to ravish her until both of them are exhausted,
bruised, and sated. Leashing the savage demon within, he reaches out to brush a
strand of dark hair away from her face with a careful, petal soft caress.
�You are beautiful,� he says with sincere simplicity,
watching as his compliment brings a fresh rush of blood to her cheeks.
�You said that before,� she comments in the slightly awkward
silence.
�Did you doubt that I meant it then?� he asks with mild
reproach, his fingers wandering down along the line of her throat and sternum
to trace swirling patterns on the soft hollow of her stomach.
�No,� she replies, distracted by the points of his claws
dancing along her skin, �I just��
He smiles wickedly as her words trail off, her attention
caught and held by the finger he has hooked into her loosened obi. There is no
question to prelude his shredding of the material, and she makes no coherent
protest in time to save it. Her eyes grow big with a mixture of shock and
fascination as his fingers part the material of her kimono, bearing the gentle
swell of her abdomen and the dark, tight curls on the mound of her sex. With
visible restraint, he allows himself to drop a chaste kiss on the soft skin
right below her naval. He moves over her, every motion of his body slow and
languid with predatory grace. Settling the bulk of his weight between her legs,
he looks down at her from where he is propped up by his arms.
�Your eyes�!� she gasps out softly, her expression one of
uneasy captivation.
�Your markings�� she continues almost timidly, her statement
not quite a question.
His eyes are at once heated with the blazing inferno of his
lust and cool with the detached observation of a hunter regarding its prey.
Heavy lidded and intensely focused solely on her, he watches her closely for
any sign of fear as the conflict of his body�s demands and his concern for her
rages within him.
�Do you trust me?� he asks softly, his voice the smooth,
leisurely enticement of temptation personified.
She reaches out with tentative fingers to trace the jagged
line of his markings, both of them feeling the transfer of energy as his youki sparks along the edges of her fingertips. He exhales
a ragged breath he didn�t know he was holding as she smiles up at him and her
eyes soften with their familiar warmth.
�Yes,� she whispers tenderly, �I trust you.�
It is all he can do to press his face into the yielding
flesh of her belly as he hides his face from her, afraid of her seeing how much
her simple trust affects him. As one of the most powerful beings in existence,
he can appreciate the singular rarity of being given such unconditional trust.
She is the ephemeral snowflake to his glacier, grain of sand to his mountain,
raindrop to his hurricane; and yet she�she trusts
him.
In the quiet moment that follows, he finds himself humbled.
For all his power, for all his strength, he
has never dared to trust anyone so completely. No one�except maybe the innocent
little girl from long ago; who anyone would find easy to trust.
He kisses her skin with exquisite care, his own hunger
forgotten as the urge to please her blossoms unexpectedly inside of him.
Looking up into her blushing face, into her bright, hopeful, smiling eyes, he
wants to show her the beauty of passion without the dark stain of degradation
that he has endured.
Slipping his tongue into the beginning of the slit of her
sex, he lets his eyes close as he savors the slick-sweet taste of her. His lips
part her folds as his tongue burrows deep to find the hidden pearl of her
clitoris. With slow circles, he lets the tip trace rings around the swollen
bud; placing an open, hungry kiss against her most intimate of places as he
takes her into his mouth and suckles. His hands are there to catch and ease the
instinctive jerk of her hips, cradling her round buttocks in his large palms as
he lifts her up.
�Sess-Sesshoumaru,�
Rin cries out, her eyes slightly unfocused and wide
with overwhelmed wonder.
�I�ve got you,� he whispers as he nuzzles his face deeper
into her, his questing tongue delving into her tight, virgin passage.
His large hands grip her slim thighs, hooking her knees over
his broad shoulders. For a moment he stares; captivated by the sight of her
sex, wet and slick and flushed red, displayed before him like an exotic flower.
�Trust me,� he murmurs softly, his crimson and gold eyes
adoring as he looks down at her over the curves of her body. �Let yourself go, Rin. Forget everything else and just feel. I vow I will let nothing bad happen to you.�
The expression on her face shifts from one of uneasy
excitement to breathless desire as she takes in his words. He feels her relax
underneath his hands as she forgoes straining forward to see what he is doing
and lays back with blind faith.
�O-okay,� she responds tentatively.
Sweet and deceptively mild, her surrender strokes the demon
within until he is fighting the instinct to curl his body protectively over
hers. Over a century of civilized discipline and learning melts away as he
looks down into her soft, glowing dark eyes and sees the bright flush of
arousal he has brought to her face. He licks his lips in anticipation, watches
as she shivers under his intense gaze, and dips his head to feast.
Slow and languid, he dips and twirls his tongue into the
hidden places as she bucks and squirms under his steadying hands. Satisfied
with his explorations of her inner and outer folds, he thrusts his tongue deep
into her and probes the tight wetness of her sheath. His hands cup her
buttocks, lifting as he slides his lips over her in a long, savoring kiss. Her
muffled little mews guide his actions as he blindly presses his face into her
and gives himself up to the taste and texture that is uniquely hers.
The subtle, building tension in her body and the responsive
little flutters of her inner muscles let him know she is close. Abandoning the
clinging heat of her opening, he sets his teeth around her throbbing clit and
uses his fingers to give her the thickness with that she craves. Deliberately
he matches the flicking cadence of his tongue to the light, quick strokes of
his fingertips against the sensitive spot within. As her body strains against
him, he cannot help but smooth his free hand down the rigid, graceful arch of
her spine as she trembles on the edge of climax.
For a brief moment, he withholds that final caress as the
dominant alpha male within cherishes having her helpless and whimpering and completely
at his mercy. He hides his dark, predatory smirk of elation from her view as he
puffs a gentle breath against her wet sex and ignites her body into orgasm.
Rock steady and still, he holds her as her entire awareness shatters into
blind, intensifying pleasure. Stroking her hair and whispering quiet
reassurances to her as her skin shivers and her form writhes, he cradles her
against his muscular chest.
Her soft, inarticulate moans dwindle as her erratic pants
deepen into long silent breathes. With tender fingers he brushes strands of
silky dark hair out of her eyelashes as her head lulls and her body relaxes
into limp, sated satisfaction. He makes the most of the opportunity to simply
hold her, letting himself touch her warm bare skin
with reverent fingertips. He is reminded of her delicacy, the fragile, fleeting
miracle of her existence, and his grip tightens around her as he banishes dark
thoughts of the future from his mind. Burying his nose into the fall of her
hair, he revels in the sinuous slither of it against his face. The musky,
tangy, feminine scent of her is enough to smother his blooming melancholy with
a fresh hot rush of lust to his groin.
�Sesshoumaru?� she prompts
tentatively, twisting in his arms to look up at him as the lingering bliss of
her climax leaves her energized. Her slender fingers curl into the fabric of
the front of his kimono, and his answer is delayed as he watches them burrow
beneath the layers to brush against the bare skin beneath.
�Sesshoumaru?� she says his name
again, and he belatedly realizes that she is asking his permission to continue.
�Do�� he starts to say, surprised to find a constriction in
his throat hampering his ability to speak. �Do as you please,� he chokes out,
struggling with a sudden feeling of self consciousness as she tugs the sides
open and deepens the v of his neckline.
The rasp of her little nails stirs the frost colored, downy
fur that sparsely dusts his skin in this form. Exposed to the night air, it is mere moments until the chill of the foggy air forms cool
droplets on each of the strands. Like a glistening snowfall under moonlight,
each inch of his skin sparkles and shines as she eases the silk of his kimono
and under shirts down the hard muscles of his biceps. He fights the instinctive
urge to shake himself dry, as motionless and still under her touch as an
enraptured wild thing.
With a touch of self derision, he realizes he is holding his
breath and forces himself to breathe naturally. His resolve lasts until her
hands fall to his obi and then his breath catches in a sharp inhale as the cool
tip of one of her seeking fingers ghosts over the head of his erection. In
blind, urgent reaction, he encircles her small wrists with his clawed fingers
and uses his other hand to rip open the front of his hakama.
Still aware of nothing more than the pounding, intense need gripping his body,
he eases her hands down until his length is cradled in her palms. He exhales in
a long tortured hiss of gratitude, closing her grip more snugly around his
erection. He spares only half a thought for the shocked expression on her face
as he tightens his hand around hers and forces her to stroke him with exactly
the right friction.
A second later, he becomes conscious of his lapse of
control. The harshness of his own pants is like a guilty litany in his ears as
he releases his brutal hold on her hands.
�Did I hurt you?� he asks with deceptive neutrality as he
gently but firmly removes her touch from his body completely.
�No,� she replies, something in the tone of her voice making
him jerk to attention and study her closely. Her expression is one of perplexed
interest and her dark eyes are curious rather than condemning. Yet beneath the
curiosity is a kind of sharp carnal intensity that makes him acutely aware of
his own masculinity in a way he has never felt before. He is still and quiet
beneath her touch as she reaches out with singular focus and spreads the torn
front of his hakama wide so that the darker, flushed
thickness of his erection is prominently displayed against the lean, muscular
plane of his abdomen. With mute compliance he lets her fingers roam over him as
they please; recognizing and responding to the possessiveness in her touch.
Watching her face change as she watches the trails of her hands on his skin, he
realizes that despite her ignorance and virginity, Rin
knows exactly what she wants.
Him.
Without any conscious struggle between them, she has become
the aggressor and he is acutely aware of his almost submissive compliance as he
lets her strip him until he is as naked as she. He grits his teeth against
begging little whines that threaten to spill from his throat and fights against
the basic, instinctive urge to prostrate himself fully under her caresses.
Rather than trigger his need to prove his dominance, her assertiveness quiets
the urgency of his own body as he allows her to direct the intimacy between
them. Mutely he reclines back as she gives him a gentle push on the chest,
propping himself up on his elbows as his eyes never leave her face. With inner mortification,
he comes to understand that he has not separated himself as far from his
younger, yielding self as he thought. It is only the fascinated look of tender
wonder on her face that keeps his cold rage in check as his body�s arousal
spikes in response to her position of dominance over him.
Were it any other than she, he would not hesitate to blunt
the razor edge of his old anger with fresh blood, but it is Rin above him. The lingering
shroud of his hidden shame gradually burns away as she kisses his skin with
love. The memories of other forced matings fade as
her touch claims his body inch by inch. He exhales a ragged sigh, blinks back
what might have been the beginning of tears, and lifts her face with a knuckle
to brush his lips across hers.
�What was that for?� she asks inquisitively.
�Because I could,� he replies cryptically, leaning back to
watching her with hooded, hungry, demonic eyes.
Her ebony hair spills over the pale perfection of his
abdomen like ink, staining the milky glow of his skin like a dark shadow. Her
splayed hand on his belly is like a warm brand on his flesh as her lips nibble
their way down his pectoral to the small nub of his nipple. Her tongue is a
shocking wetness as she mimics his earlier teasing. Quickly discovering he is not
as sensitive there as she, her face betrays mild disappointment when she cannot
drive him to that same level of frenzied torment he bestowed upon her.
His smug smile clashes with her slight pout as he correctly guesses her
intentions and finds amusement in her frustration.
�If you wish to tease me, you will have to try harder,� he croons
sweetly to her.
Her impatient growl is echoed by his husky chuckle as she
eases her way down his body, her destination as clear as the wicked twinkle of
mischief in her eyes. His mirth abruptly dies as his gold eyes flare with
intensity and barely restrained greed. His captivated, darkly expectant look is
all the encouragement she needs as she places an innocent kiss against the
satin soft skin of the head of his erection. His entire body goes tense as he
consciously holds himself still; the whisper of her breath against his
sensitive sex bringing the icy hot prickle of goose bumps to his skin. The urgent
press of her lips and the feverish heat of her tongue make the breath slam out
his lungs in one forceful exhale. He is acutely aware of the pounding pulse in
his temple echoed in the blood swollen flesh under the swirl of her tongue; so
much so that it feels as if she can literally taste the frantic tempo of his
heartbeat.
He makes no attempts to hide how much she is affecting him,
finding himself trusting her as he never has anyone before. He is quietly
amused as she forgets her teasing completely as she becomes enthralled in her
explorations of him. A slight, besotted smile curves his lips as he revels in
her tentative caresses, enjoying her attentions as she familiarizes herself
with his body. He is hit with a shocking moment of disappointment as he sees
the teardrop of precum leaking from his erection and
realizes that he cannot afford to wait anymore if he wishes to fulfill her
request tonight.
With a soft, silent sigh, he rises and reaches for his youkino, tucking the thick furred weight of it firmly under
his back and shoulders. Reaching out and cupping her face in his hands, he
halts her actions and catches her attention.
�Come here, sweet one,� he bids her gently.
With easy compliance, she lets him guide her up his body,
positioning her legs and hips until she is poised above him, ready to receive
him within her. Holding her still with one large hand splayed across her hip,
he uses his other to nudge the head of his erection against her welcoming, wet
folds. Coating the tip with her slick moisture, he pulls her forward until she
can feel the blunt prod against her tight opening. With precise restraint he
eases into her, pausing when he is deep enough not to be jarred out.
�There will be pain,� he instructs her through gritted
teeth, �Go at your own pace.�
His hands are a light, neutral weight at her waist as she
looks down at him with slightly panicky, wild and wide dark eyes. Without
conscious thought, he reacts to her sudden, frozen state of indecision, seeking
to arouse that carnal possessiveness he saw in her before.
�Who am I to you, Rin?� he goads
her with heavy lidded, dangerous, predatory eyes. �Will a small pinch keep you
from what you desire? Do I mean so little to you?�
The bright flash of hot temper in her dark eyes almost
breaks his resolve right then and there as he sees her fierce response. It is a
surreal moment of vertigo as the tiny, tight heated grip of her sheath
envelopes the thick, hard length of him in one complete, vicious thrust. The
harsh cadence of his exhales fall in time with her pants as they both freeze,
trembling and sweat soaked and shocked by the reality of their joining. He
cannot say whether it was her or him that moved first, only that the embrace of
her sex around his is hotter and sweeter than his most lucid fantasy.
She tears a ragged whine from his lips as she raises her
hips, the impossible friction of her movement nearly darkening his vision to
pitch black. Instinctively he clamps his claws into her flesh, pinning her with
his superior strength as he struggles to breath. His
mind makes an intriguing, fleeting observation of size difference between their
races before a tiny, experimental rock of her hips beneath his slack grip wipes
his thoughts clean of all but her. He gasps out a curse as she does it again,
all signs of discomfort fading from her expressive face. His body trembles and
breaks out into a cold sweat as she cocks her head to one side with playful
impishness and seats herself completely on him with one smooth motion.
Her small hands are hot against his chest as she places them
against his bare skin, reclining forward in a change of angle that nearly makes
him bite through his tongue. Her dark eyes are wicked, assured, and triumphant
as she leans in and positions her face inches from his.
�Now,� she purrs
in a husky, velvety voice, �Tell me you love me.�
Her eyes shine with dark satisfaction as his eyes first open
wide with surprise, then narrow with predatory shrewdness.
�Rin,� he growls with silky
threat.
�Tell me, even if it�s a lie,� she pleads quietly, �Say you
love me.�
�Please,� she adds
desperately his hesitation shows on his face.
His heart catches in his throat as he sees the fragile hope
in her eyes. His immediate, defensive words of denial die as he sees the cold
reality of acceptance begin to frost over her teasing, warm desire. Even now,
she knows him too well as her expectations match his first reaction perfectly.
No girly daydreams cloud her perception of him, and he finds himself rebelling
against the icy correctness that both his pride and her accurate prediction
demand of him.
�I do not lie when I say I love you. Forever and always, my
heart will belong to you,� he replies slowly, enunciating each word carefully
because he does not know if he has it within him to ever say it again. His
hands cradle her face as he uses his thumbs to smooth away her tears, her blood
still staining his claws.
�Smile for me, sweet one,� he urges insistently, hating the
sight of her crying, �Your smile is what first compelled me to come to your
aid.�
Obediently she does as he asks, her smile a little wobbly
and watery but genuine. The kiss that follows is as natural as their first one
was awkward, her face lifting up to his like a flower to the sunshine. In the
hushed quiet of the night, their breaths mingle, mix, and become one as he
seals his lips over hers. The guidance of his hands on her waist as he shows
her how to move is as sensual and effortless as the flow of water in its banks;
the thrust and retreat of her hips as strong and timeless as the crest of waves
breaking onto a sandy beach.
He has to bite back a moaning whine of pleasure as the
constricting muscles of her sheath cling to his thickness, the consuming heat of her sex rippling along
his length in a fiery caress. He feels the shift in her body as a minute
adjustment in the angle of her thrusts slides the tip of him over her sensitive
spot within. He cannot resist the urge to bury his face in the vulnerable curve
of her neck, relishing every throaty, moaning vibration she makes as she drives
herself and him to climax. Gripping her thighs in his strong hands, he helps
her lift and thrust as he sets a bruising pace that matches the rapid,
demanding cadence of her pulse. Every slide of her body against his accentuates
the difference between her soft curves and his hard planes.
�S-sess�� she gasps out as her
body goes rigid.
The motion of her hips falter as her inner muscles seize up
around him; the violence of her orgasm tightening her sex into a hard,
unforgiving fist. Then, mercifully, her forehead falls to his shoulder as her
sheath milks him with long, rippling spasms that spur his own body to its peak.
With a harsh, low, strangled bark against her skin, he feels his erection
twitch within her; the hot rush of his seed spilling out into her in spurts as
he follows her in climax. A small, keening whine of tortured pleasure trickles
from his lips as the aftershocks of her orgasm flutter her inner muscles around
his oversensitive, softening flesh.
Shaken and sated, he summons the energy to reposition her so
that she is cradled comfortably against him and pulls the coils of his youkino around them so that the chill of the night cannot
steal their shared heat. Her hands gently encircle his waist, her forehead
cushioned in the hollow between his neck and shoulder. As their breathing
quiets and their heartbeats calm, he is content to simply hold her and savor
the lazy satisfaction for as long as it lingers.
His thoughts turn to hazy, half formed fantasies of future
nights spent much like this one; the soft crackling of the fire, the cool kiss
of the night air, the musky scent of sex clinging to her skin as she sleeps
naked and trusting in his arms. His possessive, masculine ideal is abruptly
disturbed as she snuggles her face deeper into his nape and gives a soft,
snorting snore. He does nothing to hide his wry, amused smile as he shifts her
against him until her snores lapse into quiet, even breathing.�
His conscious awareness is just about to drift into deeper,
internal contemplation as she stirs and wakes. He is caught off guard as she
turns her nose into the crook of his neck, inhales deeply and lets out a soft
sigh of contentment. The region of his heart tightens as she sits back, lacing
her fingers behind his neck as she regards him with joyful, serious, and
altogether loving dark eyes.
�Thank you,� she whispers sincerely. Leaning in, she brushes
a kiss across his brow before dropping a kiss on his lips.
�Will you let me do something for you?� she ventures
tentatively, clear intent evident in her direct gaze.
�Yes,� he replies easily, his curiosity sparked by her
unusual request.
Scrambling to her feet, she leaves him as she gathers up the
scattered articles of their clothing. Spreading the ruins of her kimono on the
ground, she proceeds to then spread his shorter kimono on top of that. Using a
corner of the sleeve of hers, she cleans herself and then him with the soft
silk. Arranging his youkino to her satisfaction, she
mimics his reclining position and beckons for him to come to her. Intrigued
enough not to object, he crawls to her and allows her to put his head on the
soft, satin roundness of her breast. He twitches the end of his fur to cover
them as he curls up against her side, her arms around his shoulders.
�Now,� she prompts him happily, �Go to sleep.�
�I do not need sleep,� he tells her with a slight frown
against her skin.
�Then rest,� she instructs him, undeterred by his protest.
He opens his mouth to further argue, but her astute question
cuts him off.
�Do you trust me?� she asks in a strange echo of his earlier
words.
There is a tense pause as he considers her query, weighing
his answer against his internal emotions.
�Yes,� he admits at length, discomfort at his confession
showing on his face.
Her resulting, brilliant smile is enough to make him forget
his previous awkwardness as she tucks him firmly beside her.
�Try to sleep,� she says firmly, �I�ll watch over you.�
He covers his instinctive hesitation with minute movements
to make himself more comfortable. Nuzzling his nose deep between her breasts,
his cheek cushioned on her chest, he finds it hard to bestir himself to
disappoint her. Heavy and languid, the tension melts from his body muscle by
muscle until he is completely relaxed. Inhaling her scent with each breath,
listening to every beat of her heart, he finds his thoughts growing sluggish
and disjointed. As he feels his outward awareness hazing over, he opens one eye
and checks to make sure she is alert. Her dark eyes sparkle down at him with
amusement and knowing affection as she smoothes a hand down his silver mane,
stroking his hair with long gentle sweeps. The touch is rhythmic and hypnotic,
and he sighs with instinctive satisfaction as he gradually relinquishes his
hold on consciousness. The worries and cares of his ever active mind cease to
trouble him as her presence lulls him asleep.
As he hovers on the edge of slumber, he hears the sweet,
tender notes of a sad lullaby as she sings to him. Wordless and comforting, her
song eases him into sweet dreams as he sleeps, untroubled, in the safe shelter
of her arms.

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Sweet Dreams