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Finding Kagome	By : MetsukiKaraTen Category: InuYasha > Het - Male/Female > InuYasha/Kagome Views: 8806 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 23
- 24
- 25
DISCLAIMER: I do not own InuYasha and company, however I
DO own an overactive imagination...

WARNING: This chapter contains LEMON

Finding Kagome

Chapter Twenty Four

The room hadn't been
used for months, not since her cousin from the city had spent a
weekend back in the fall. Miranda stood quietly in the open doorway
of her spare bedroom, watching her strange guest sleeping. He had
simply collapsed on top of the bed, not even bothering to pull down
the spread. Her need to comfort him had been so strong, yet she
simply could not bring herself go beyond an offer shelter and
conversation. He was an angry being, this Kouga. There was a hint of
unspoken power about him, something she just couldn't quite put her
finger on, and an unpredictability that both frightened and excited
her.

It had been the
strange woman, Ayame, who had originally sought her out, saying that
word of mouth had drawn her to interest in a psychic consultation.
Her concern for her husband's restlessness in recent months led her
finally to ask for the reading. As instructed she had brought with
her something which she said was a personal item of his, it had
appeared to be a headband of some unidentifiable pelt. Watching him,
she realized that it was the same one he wore now. The thing had put
Miranda off at first. Being vegan and never wearing or using animal
products, she hadn't wanted to touch it. But, lacking anything else,
it had been the focal point for the initial spread that she had done.
Touching it hadn't been a requirement, the spirits of the cards
didn't require she handle focus items, thank the Gods.

Could
I have saved Ayame if I had done the spread for her instead? Perhaps
warned her, made her aware of an impending danger . . . I did what I
was paid to do . . . but it wasn't nearly enough, not enough to
save her . . . what else have I missed . . . now, what awaits
Kouga . . . Will I see it? Can I warn him in time?

Lost
in her rumination and self recrimination, she didn't realize she had
become the target of an electric blue gaze. The movement as her guest
rolled to his side returned her to the moment with a hesitation in
her heartbeat as their eyes met. Who was this strange man, really?

“You're
awake . . .” she observed vaguely, trapped briefly by those
incredible eyes. “Want some coffee or something?” She
swallowed, then blinked. As he lay there with one arm tucked under
his head studying her, she realized just what a work of art he really
was. Her heart started pounding against her chest, and she mentally
shook herself, shocked at her reaction to his proximity. Glancing to
his injury she noted the angry wound on his neck had become nothing
more than a thin red line. “You're going to make me nervous if
you keep that up . . .” she shifted uneasily beneath his
intense scrutiny.

“It
wasn't your fault, Miranda,” his words where low. “Stop
beating yourself up.” No way he could have read her thoughts.
But it was as if he had. She stiffened as he raised a hand in
invitation to her.

“I
can make you breakfast, I have grapefruit and . . .” she
motioned lamely toward the kitchen but her evasion wasn't working.
He lowered his chin and raised a brow at her, then beckoned again
with his outstretched hand. It was the same arm she had wrapped the
night before, and curiosity about how that injury was doing lured her
closer. After all, he had said it would be fine by morning. Such a
fantastic claim should be verified.

“I
promise, I won't bite . . .” he whispered as he took her hand
and pulled her to sit beside him on the bed. She laughed nervously,
reaching to touch the bandage on his arm.

“Can
I look? Does it still hurt?” she asked. He sniffed, and
rolled to his back glaring at the gauze.

“It
didn't hurt much to begin with. One of the stupid mutt's tricks. I
shouldn't have let it get to me,” he held his arm out for her
to remove the bandage.

“Mutt
. . . you mean Inudono?” She picked at the tape with her
nails, gingerly trying to loosen it.

“Here
. . . don't waste your time . . .” he raised his arm, using a
long fingernail from his other hand he neatly sliced through the
gauze to reveal a slight pinking in a line no more than half of an
inch wide down the center of where the wound had been. “It was
his half brother . . . I thought he was dead . . . but apparently
not.”

Gaping
at the spot that had been an open gash on Kouga's forearm the night
before, her brow furrowed, and she peered into his eyes. No
one heals that fast. That
should have been stitched, and yet the line is smooth. Who
is this guy?? She reached out to
touch his ear, shaped so unusually. Just
like elves . . . one of the Fae folk . . .

“What
are you doing?” he demanded as he grabbed her wrist roughly,
yanking her hand away from the intimate gesture. So he
doesn't like his ears touched . . . duly noted.

“You
aren't telling me everything, are you Kouga?” She blinked at
the claws on his hand, really seeing them for the first time. “How
is it you heal overnight? I know I am missing something here. Your
wife is murdered . . . and you don't want to bring in the
authorities? You fight with wealthy recluses who use whips for
weapons?”

“Don't
forget the gun, the fucker had a gun, too,” he added with a
snarl, dropping her hand and looking away..

“Is
that how he killed Ayame? With a gun?” she demanded, her voice
raising. “You said he used his teeth!!” Her
confusion tangled dangerously with a sense of foreboding and she
began backing away from him. “I
remember your saying that last night... teeth!!
What the hell is going on??”

Kouga
grabbed for an arm and pulled her close, closer than she wanted to
be. He was entirely too calm, almost relaxed as she struggled to
pulled away. He was strong, much stronger than she had ever imagined
and he persisted calmly against her struggle until finally, she found
herself back on the bed with her back curled against him. His arms
enveloped her tightly, a muscular leg trapped her against him. Her
heart fluttering like a bird's wings, she squeaked when he sniffed
deeply at her hair. Pressing close to her ear, his voice was no more
than whisper.

“You're
right, Miranda . . . theres a lot you don't know,” his breath
was warm on her neck, “It's important that you understand.
Time for the truth.” His grip on her didn't lessen, but she
could feel his calculating gaze on her. It was like he was studying
her, deciding how to explain it to her.

“You're
not going to tell me that you aren't human. . . ” she rasped
out, wriggling against his hold, feeling every bit as though she was
being restrained by something otherworldly. But that's not possible.
She shook her head, lamenting all those horror movies she had watched
as a kid.

“I'm
youkai,” he stated flatly, allowing her a moment to absorb the
information. “Youkai are not . . . human.” Suddenly
the words this can't be real became a mantra in her mind.

“Right
. . . Ok . . . “ she renewed her struggle against his hold.
Maybe if she humored him, “So your an alien . . .” she
fought against his hold, twisting her shoulders and yanking her legs
in futility, little squeaks erupting from her throat.

“Not
an alien, Miranda . . . “ He raised his voice over her
struggle, his muscles grew more taught as he continued to restrain
her. “More like . . .” Suddenly warm moisture, as his
tongue traced along her neck and she gasped before growing still
from the shock, “more like . . . a god.”

“No.
. . I don't believe this . . . You're delusional . . .” she
shook her head, her dark auburn hair falling to hide her face from
him.

“My
kind have been here since the beginning of time . . . just, hidden.
We've been in the shadows, living a half life . . . for too long.
It wasn't always that way . . . once we were free. Once, long ago,
we ruled everything. My kind were . . . respected . . .
revered . . . even worshiped.”

“What
about Ayame? Was she. . . ” she was near whining. Giving up
on her struggle, she remembered the ethereal wildness of the woman's
aura when they met.

“Yes.”
he affirmed, burying his face in her hair. She realized she hadn't
imagined it, he had been smelling at her from the time he woke. She
knew his nose was sensitive after all the complaints about the
incense she burned, but now he was smelling her, almost
like a flower. The way he kept his nose so close to her, she couldn't
help but think he liked her scent. And
then he licked her like she was some kind of strange candy . . .
but, he promised he wouldn't bite . . .

Her
mind raced. The whole concept was insane. His visits had always
been late in the night, perhaps to avoid detection? His dress was
odd, and those ears were just . . . Too many thoughts whirled in her
confused mind.

“I
need you, Miranda . . .” his voice returning to the warm breath
in her ear, as his grip began to loosen. “The balance is off
. . . Youkai should never have to hide themselves.”

He
rose over her, rolling her to her back, his position dominating her.
She crossed her arms against her chest defensively, and offered him
a look of defiance. That seemed to surprised him at first, and he
responded with a challenging grin, a glimmer sparked in his electric
gaze.

“Wh-What
do you want from me . . . if you're some kind . . . some kind of
god . . .” she stammered, “Then you
fix it . . . I'm nobody . . . just a fortune teller . . . I can't
change anything!”

“You
know the ways of this place,” he reached slowly for her crossed
arms and gently pulled them away from her chest, holding them to her
sides. “You will be my guide . . . my counsel.”

“It's
the Jewel . . . you need that Jewel . . . for what?” her fear
began to waver. He didn't act like he wanted to hurt her. No, it
seemed more like he wanted her co-operation. Was demanding it. The
least she could do is listen to what he had to say, her curiosity
began to override her instinct to simply run from him.

“It's
an ancient artifact,” he nodded. “It has great power,”
he slowly traced her jawline with the tip of his nose, his grip on
her wrists slackened. “With that one, small thing . . . my
people would be free again.” He pressed his cheek against hers,
then rubbed lightly tracing her cheekbone with his nose. “You
Americans. . . you pride yourselves on having a free country.”
He rose just enough to lock her eyes with his, reached up to gently
brush her errant locks from her face, “yet my people live in
the shadows . . . even here in this place. . . is that right?”

She
slowly shook her head, her mind spinning. The feel of him, his
strength . . . Even though he hovered over her dominantly, the
gentle tenderness of his little caresses brought a flush to her face.
It had been too long since she had felt the touch of a man.

Everything
about his demeanor said he was sincere in his desire to right this
wrong. The anger she had sensed before had become the sound of
determination in his voice. Surely what he was asking was not
unreasonable . . . he wanted her help. Being a nurturer by nature, it
was her way to be supportive. But it all seemed too fantastic, too
unreal, and his touch was pulling at so much more than just her mind.
She tried to breath, and found the air entirely too thick.

“Join
me . . .” he whispered, “The rewards are beyond anything
you could imagine.” He rested his head against her shoulder,
nuzzling into her neck. “I will make you a respected member of
my tribe . . . The Ookami-tribe . . . the ruling tribe.”
he promised, tilting his head to meet her eyes.

“Become
a member of your tribe?” She shook her head, trying to break
free of the euphoria his attentions were inspiring. “I don't
want to go anywhere, Kouga . . .” she murmured without
conviction. “I . . . like my life here . . . just fine . .
.” her brow furrowed, what was he doing to her? And just what
exactly was it that he was asking? “Can't I just help you?”

“To
become Ookami is protection for you,
Miranda . . . against anything or anyone
who might ever wish
you harm.” He touched his nose to hers, heated breath wafted
across her lips. The room became too warm suddenly, and her eyes
unfocused as her fear disappeared completely, becoming something
else. Something sensual and purely animalistic. “You won't
have to go anywhere . . .” he whispered, “but if you need
me, or . . . want me . . . I'll always be here for you.”

“Why
do I get this nagging feeling . . .” she absently noted the
huskiness in her own voice, “that you are trying to seduce me?”

“Maybe
. . .” and his lips barely brushed against hers “. . .
because . . . I am.”

He
drew his tongue across her lips, she reached to grab the back of his
neck, crushing his mouth to hers. It was a dream, some insane
fantasy. None of it could possibly be real. She had admired Kouga
secretly for months, joking, teasing. All the while feeling an
unexplainable emptiness when he would leave. Maybe he had cast a
spell on her, she didn't know why she needed him so badly. She
didn't care anymore. All she knew was that she did, and he seemed to
need her just as much. She parted her lips allowing him access to the
intimacy of her tongue, and he slowly pulled up the hem of her caftan
then slipped his leg between her creamy thighs to press against her
sex, running his warm hand along her side caressing her soft curves.

Miranda's
hands dragged along his arms, relishing the feel of his skin, the
sheer strength that radiated from the muscle beneath. That strength
had restrained her, but now he had promised it would protect her.
Brushing against the leather of his garments, a vague thought
floated in about the fact that he was wearing animal skins . . .
then became completely lost in the sensation of what was underneath
those pelts. Her hand traveling to his shoulders and back, exploring
his powerful build. She realized that his scent was as untamed as his
heart, that of pine needles and earth, all overridden by the strong
musk of his masculinity.

“I could definitely get used to this . . .” she murmured,
and he chuckled then kissed her again, their tongues fighting for
dominance.

His
mind was a blur of plans, and the delicious sensations of the moment
interrupting them. Kouga had never been with a human before. Only
once had he tried, and failed to win the heart one of her kind. His
hands ran over her hips, noting the exquisite way that the bone
protruded slightly on the sides of her concave abdomen, her moans
luring him into an altered state as he tasted the skin of her neck,
the heat of her pulse.

Annoyed
with the encumbrance of her caftan, the claw of his thumb sliced
through it. It pleased him to find that the only thing beneath the
fabric was her delicious skin, and he slowly worked his way down from
her neck to her shoulder, noting the spot above her collarbone where
the mark would be placed. The alliance would be set, and his goals
would be achieved.

Moving
down her silken body, he nuzzled against the underside of her breast,
while palming the other, rubbing her nipple into erection with his
roughened hand. The temptation to lap at it full tongued was one he
couldn't resist, setting off a new sound from her throat. A nearly
feral sound, a demand as her pelvis pushed against his thigh, her
dampness calling to him.

She
slipped her thumb under his headband, and pulled at the leather thong
that held his mane at bay. It pooled around them both as he worked
his way down to her tender belly. She dug her fingers into the
thickness of his hair and her demands became whimpers pleading to him
for more. She lifted up her knees, drawing him to the flower of
her passion, luring him with her arousal, intoxicating him with her
scent.

His
mouth reached her most secret place, and as he explored her, he could
vaguely hear her calling his name. He felt her dragging at his
clothes and realized how badly he wanted to feel her skin against his
own. He tugged at his garb, all the while lapping at her and teasing
her. Once free of the restraints, he wrapped his arms around her
legs, deepening his exploration even more, while her hands traced the
bare skin of his shoulders. He could feel her reaching, pulling . . .
demanding.

The
throbbing in his loins became more urgent, and he slowly climbed the
length of her, dragging his tongue along her salty sweetness,
stopping to nip at her breasts before fully covering her with his
form. Her dark, sea green eyes had sharpened, become brighter, more
intense, glowing beneath half mast lids with her own intoxication,
and their lips met again, tongues dancing. Her hands traced his
sides, lightly brushing her fingernails on his skin, her legs
wrapped his waist in a passionate embrace, as they each relishing the
pure sensation of skin on skin.

“I
want you . . .” her voice was a husky whisper. “Kouga . .
. please . . .” he nipped at her neck, pressing his hardness
against her, slowly entering the slickness of her, pushing deeply to
hold her tight and just feel her.
“Oh GOD!” she moaned as she convulsed against his
hardness.

He
shuddered with his need, his fight to control, as he felt her orgasm
pull at him. He
pulled back slowly, he could feel her trembling as he traced her
collarbone with his tongue. Pushing deeply again, her breath
quickened and his name was on her lips. He didn't hold this time, but
again pulled back and as he pressed fully against her, her hips began
to grind into him in response. A low growl began to emanate from his
chest, and the cadence of their sensual dance increased, breath
becoming labored, ragged.

“Mine
. . .” he whispered into her ear, his nips gradually becoming
harder along her neck and shoulders, his thrusts increasing in
urgency.

“Yours
. . .” she panted, enjoying the intensity of his love bites,
she lifted her chin to give him better access to her neck and throat,
not realizing that this was an act of complete submission to him. She
was accepting his claim, he would make her his own.

“You...
are... MINE!” he growled with each stroke, wrapping one hand
around the back of her head, fisting her hair. There was an urgency
to his demand that she, too could feel. The near violence of his
grip brought her a thrill like she had never before experienced.

“GOD,
yes!” She panted as he began to drive into her, “Make . .
. me . . . yours,” grabbing his powerful buttocks with her
hands, she dug her nails in deeply, a subconscious effort to hold on
to the moment. “Don't ever . . . stop . . .” she panted,
nearly a whisper in his ear, drawing her tongue across his ear,
where her fingers had earlier been forbidden.

The
ache and the fire became more than he could stand, as he felt her
tense beneath him. His grasp on her hair tightened, his hand pressed
forcefully against her back as he immobilized her. With a great roar,
he released his seed deep inside her, his fangs buried deeply into
her shoulder, as he fiercely consummated their union.

There
were no words beyond that, none were possible as each of them were
beyond rational comprehension. Kouga stirred slowly and gently ran
his tongue across her shoulder. Both languorously drained, he lay
draped over her as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

Miranda,
eyes closed, stroked his back and arms, ran her fingers through his
hair and slowly began to wonder what all of it meant. He was
different, something about him yanked at her very soul. She found
herself questioning her convictions in the arms of this wild
creature. Opening her eyes, she felt a twinge and glanced down at her
shoulder, to the place where he had been licking her. Not being able
to see the source of her concern, she reached a hand up to trace the
smoothness, only to find two prominent puncture marks. What
the hell?

“Hey!”
She bucked underneath him to get his attention. He stirred and looked
dreamily into her eyes, then smiled affectionately.

“mmhmm?”
he murmured, nuzzling at her jaw with his nose.

“You
broke your promise . . .” her tone brought his full attention,
and he gazed again at her eyes with a line of concern forming on his
brow.

Why
the hell is she pissed? I've just given her . . . everything . . .
all that I am . . .

“I
don't understand . . .” he mumbled, as he pulled from her to
roll beside her and draw her into his arms. A tear slipped down her
cheek as her hand ran across the mark he had just given her.

“You
promised . . .” she sniffed, “that you wouldn't bite . .
.”

“Oh,”
his eyes widened slightly, as he reached to pull her hair from her
shoulder so he could better see, and smiled. “You're . . .
mine now, Miranda.” He again ran his tongue over the injury,
then nuzzled at her neck.

“A
member of your tribe?” her confusion was palpable.

He
chuckled in response, pulling her head to his shoulder. He drew in a
deep breath.

“Among
other things, yes . . .” his finger crooked under her chin,
directing her to face him and look into his eyes. “You need to
start eating better.”

“What
has that got to do with anything?” she demanded, fire in her
glare. Oh, how he loved that about her. Such passion. “My diet
is my own concern, Kouga.”

“Not
anymore, wench . . .” he smiled. “It has everything to do
. . . with the health of our pups. You're too thin.” He
snuggled closer, to be shoved away by an arm against his chest. His
surprise at her rejection was evident.

“Pups??”
she demanded, her tone laced with shock..

“You're
my mate . . .” he offered calmly, pausing to grasp for a better
term, “my wife, now . . . It stands to reason that we will
have a family . . . and sooner than later.” Smiling at the
thought he reached for her, then hesitated. Surely she knew she was
in her fertile cycle. How could she not?

“What?”
she brought a hand to her forehead. “You wanted me to join your
pack . . . you didn't ask me to bear your children!!”

“You
agreed, though,” he reminded her, slipping his arm around her
shoulders. “You told me yes. To make you mine.”

“So
you bit me??” She stared at him. His eyes were so sincere, with
a trace of . . . was that hurt?
It made her heart ache to see him hurt. “That was the throes of
passion, Kouga!” she tried to explain reasonably, “I
hardly know you! I
mean I really do care about you, and I want to help you of course . .
.”

“Miranda,”
he interrupted her rambling, his tone firm. “It's done. . .
arguing about it won't change it. I want this, or I wouldn't have
let it happen . . . ”

“Ayame
hasn't been dead a week, and now you want me?
Isn't that just a little. . . sudden??” she shook her head,
remembering the sultry woman and how devoted to her husband she had
been.

“Let
me explain something to you,” he drew her close, tracing
circles on her cheek with the pads of his fingers. “I took
Ayame as my mate because it was expected of me. Back then, someone
else had stolen my heart, but would not give me hers. Ayame came
from another tribe, and our arranged
union brought peace and strength to both tribes. She never truly had
my heart, Miranda. Her death was a shock,” and he looked away,
anger brushing his features. “And I am held by duty to avenge
her . . . and I will. But . . . before I met you . . . my heart
had been as dead as the woman who had stolen it so long ago.”

“But,
she was so devoted to you . . . Ayame loved you more than anything
in this world, I could see that . . .” she looked down at her
hand, which had traveled to his arm. “Isn't this a betrayal of
some kind? She was my client . . . but you
. . . you had become more like a friend.”

“What's
with this 'had' shit?” he raised her chin to look at him. “I
better still be . . . or we're in for some real trouble . . . my
mate.” His eyes sparkled as he used the term, and he kissed the
tip of her nose. “There is no betrayal . . .” he
whispered. “Life . . . is for the living.”

“Give
me some time to get used to the idea . . .” she asked softly.
“I kinda thought if I ever did find someone, we would do
something more traditional, like . . . get married . . . or
something . . .” and she trailed off.

“Don't
take too long . . . ,” he leaned in to nuzzle his mark, and
noticed the bruising around it, and the little bruises blooming along
her neck. “Fuck, I've hurt you . . . no wonder you've got
doubts.”

He
backed away and carefully examined her nude form, noting the number
of scratches, the bruising along her arms and torso. He turned her
so he could see her back, and found five perfect claw marks where he
had punctured her skin while marking her. He'd known he could easily
overpower her, but he hadn't realized how delicate, or just how
fragile her human body was. Reaching over to pick up his discarded
headband, he slipped it onto her head.

“That's
a dead animal skin,” she grimaced, reaching to remove it. He
staid her hand, pulling it to his lips for a kiss. If what he had
heard was true, the first time was always the most dangerous. But
she was stronger than she realized . . . she had survived.

“You
wouldn't want the live one on your head, trust me . . . the pelt
will help,” he smoothed her hair. “It has . . .
properties.” At her dubious look, his eyes sharpened, “just
wear the damn thing, you'll heal faster.”

She
froze at the terseness of the command, then her eyes widened slightly
and her heart quickened. In his own gruff way, he was taking care of
her. She had always been the caretaker, and now . . . someone
wanted to take care of her.

“Lets
feed you, Koishii . . . you are going to need your strength,”
and with kiss to her forehead, he rose to gather his clothing.

'I
could so definitely get used to this . . .'
she thought, smiling.

88*88*88*88*88

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Finding Kagome