Sweet Surrender | By : inumom Category: InuYasha > Het - Male/Female > InuYasha/Kagome Views: 7748 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story. |
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em. Damn.
23. On the Road Again
We left early the next day, not having entirely deciphered the meaning of Sesshoumaru’s words. It would be a more leisurely trip than the one to the palace had been, as we would be driving a wagon filled with all of the chests that had belonged to my new mate’s mother as well as three large chests filled with clothing and accessories for Inuyasha that Sesshoumaru deemed “appropriate for his station.”
Still, the interlude at Sesshoumaru’s palace had left us both with a great deal to think about. The first order of business, though, would be returning home to continue getting our new lives in order. Since we took a couple of days to settle in before leaving on this trip, we had the general pattern of our lives already laid out. I was enormously happy that Shippou had agreed to become our son, and that Miroku and Sango would be staying in our village, at least for the foreseeable future.
Once the matter of Naraku and the Shikon no Tama was finally resolved, they were thinking of making at least a brief journey to the taijiya village to bring home the tools and equipment from the workshop. Sango had always spoken of continuing her village’s work, but that decision would have to wait until our current mission was finally accomplished.
It took us slightly over a week to get home, as we were in no particular hurry. We tended to stop fairly early in the evenings and not start up again until well past daybreak. Although my mate was enjoying the respite from our long journeys on foot, he tended to get a little edgy at the long hours spent in the wagon. Of course, we allowed ourselves plenty of time so that Inuyasha could hunt for our food. We also made sure to permit ourselves adequate “playtime,” as I had come to think of it--times when we could pleasure each other with the same joyful abandon that had characterized our lovemaking from the start.
To my surprise, the sensitivity in our marks didn’t seen to be diminishing at all. I wondered briefly if it would remain so for the rest of our lives, but my mate had no way to know: he’d never been mated before, and had not been raised in an environment where such information was commonly known.
Finally, late in the afternoon of the eighth day, we reached home. Although it was still early, we decided not to pick up Shippou from Kaede’s until morning. We would be celebrating our homecoming for one night privately before being reunited with our strange extended family.
Although it was not yet dark out, we decided to make it an early night. Although I had little interest in food, my mate wouldn’t let me get away with skipping a meal--he was positively obsessive about my health now that we had conceived a pup. Still, I was able to get away with nothing more than a quick vegetable stir-fry and a little rice.
We had barely finished when my beautiful hanyou grabbed the empty bowls like a starving man and set them aside, where we could deal with them later. Lifting me easily, he smirked at the eagerness that was plain in my face, my body, and my scent. “You seem a little tense, love. I think you need a good, long soak in the spring.”
I trembled at his suggestive tone, reaching out to grab a handful of towels as he carried me out through the door at the rear of our bedchamber. “That sounds beyond good,” I murmured.
I immediately understood my mate’s affection for the traditional clothing I had chosen to adopt--I was undressed and in the water in what felt like a matter of seconds. It took only slightly longer for him to undress and join me in the water. Although he had promised a relaxing soak, I didn’t for a second believe that that was going to happen.
I moaned in anticipation as he pulled me to him, turning me so that I straddled his lap. In this position, the nature of his difficulty was obvious, trapped between our bodies. Each movement either of us made rubbed along his rigid length, bringing sighs and moans from both of us as we grew more and more desperate for the final release that would only come when we had both reached utter satiation.
I could never remember exactly how many times we made love that night: I lost count at seven climaxes--four mine and three my lover’s. The very last thing I remembered was his whispered assurance that we would go at first light to bring our son home from the village.
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