Adult-FanFiction.org : Inuyasha / Yashahime

Red Strings of Fate	By : northstar Category: InuYasha > Het - Male/Female > Sessh?maru/Rin > Sessh?maru/Rin Views: 11810 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
*Thoughts*

[Character]

{Warning: Lemon and Lime content}

~* Chapter 7: Seduction and Accusations *~

[Sesshoumaru]

I walked forward to my room, opened the door, and breathed deeply the scent of
crushed wildflowers and feminine arousal.

Stepping into the room was like stepping into a lover's embrace, and all of my
immediate problems melted away. The clamorings of my
body was a welcome distraction, and I decided that the problems related to the
female enigmas I lived with could wait as I hungered for mindless
gratification.

In my dressing room I stripped, shrugging on a sleeping robe and tying it
loosely around my waist. Tugging it tight with teeth and fingers, I stalked
into the bed room, surprised to find the girl asleep on my bed.

She had taken one of my robes and wrapped herself in it, a dark blue one that
nearly swallowed her slender form. She whimpered slightly in her dreams, but it
was kind one makes in the middle of passion, not the one that indicated fear.

Delicately I leaned over and sniffed her, the unmistakable musk of arousal
mingling with my own scent.

Gently I shook her awake, watching her eyes go wide as they focused on my face.
She opened her mouth to say something, but I laid a quieting finger on them,
caressing the softness of her lower lip.

"Are you a maiden?" I asked.

She nodded, once.

"Are you here willingly?"

Again she nodded.

A knowing, masculine smile filled with dark, secret desires curved my lips.

"Were you dreaming of me?"

A blush stole across her cheeks, and at last she nodded once more.

"Good," I purred smugly, and brought my head down for a kiss.

[Rin]

My eyes flew wide as his lips touched my own, then
dropped in languorous contentment as his cruel, sensual lips began to nibble at
mine.

*Who would have thought that his mouth, so often mocking and disapproving,
could be so generous?*

The moist heat of him sent a shock through my system, and small explosions
danced in my head from just his kiss. He worked at my mouth with tongue and
lips as if it was a hard candy, meant to be savored and suckled. Coaxingly his
tongue stroked my lower lip, and obligingly I gasped, his tongue slipping
between my lips as he took advantage of the moment. On he quested, the tip of
his tongue rubbing back and forth against the tip of mine, inviting me to play.

Timidly I ran the tip of my tongue down the center of the bottom of his,
eliciting a low growl from his throat. His hand came up to cup the back of my
head, his mouth rough on mine as he deepened the angle of the kiss.

Encouraged, I mated my tongue with his, fascinated by the variety of grunts and
growls that I could get him to make. He withdrew his tongue, and I set my teeth
so they scraped along the length of it in a dangerous caress. Boldly shedshed against the bed, raising
up so that I could touch his lips with my tongue. My aggressiveness startled
him, but as I explored his mouth, his being began to thrum with pleasure. I
nicked my tongue on one of his fangs, and the coppery taste of blood filled
both our mouths, exciting him further.

At last he ended the kiss. I stared up at his beautiful, exotic features that
were taunt with the battle of control over need. The
silvery strands of his hair surrounded us, a curtain shutting us off from the
rest of the world.

Like the dream, this reality seemed unreal. Sesshoumaru-sama
seemed almost surreal himself, as if he was both more, and less, than he
usually was.

Belatedly, the words of my promise returned to me, and I tried once again to
speak. The feel of his fingers on my mouth befuddled my good intentions, and I
gave in with a sigh.

"Don't speak," he whispered, his eyes alight with heady pleasure,
soft with approval.

With a quiet growl, he undid the sash of the robe, baring my body before him.

Unhurriedly he studied it, memorizing it from my toes to the crown of my head.

"Beautiful," he breathed. With a finger he touched me, carrying some
of the dew of my arousal to his lips.

"Mine," he growled.

Tilting my head up with his hand, he set his teeth against the tender underside
of my chin "All mine," he growled again, the vibrations reverberating
through my skull.

"Yes," I breathed helplessly in a husky, low voice that sounded
nothing like my own.

Satisfied, he bit his way down my throat, licked the hollow of between my
collar bones, heading towards my breasts. Anticipation curled in my abdomen and
I waited for him to touch me there with bated breath.

He huffed a warm breath on each, watching in fascination
as the nipples hardened to nubs.

He lowered his head to the left one, looking up, along my body at me with an
evil, mischievous grin.

"Do you want this?"

"Yessss," I replied, my word ending with a
hiss as he covered the nipple with his mouth. Having the wet heat of his mouth
on me was like nothing I had ever felt before. The heady rush, not unlike the
one I got when falling, bowed my back in pleasure. My hands came up to grip his
head, searching for something stable as my world narrowed to just the
sensations he was causing in me.

When his tongue touched the nub, and traced the sensitized edge of it, I nearly
came off the bed. When he suckled me with hard lips and the brush of teeth,
only his arm around my back kept either of us from getting hurt.

Raising his head, he grinned boyishly, like a naughty child with a sweet. It
transformed his face into something animated, something alive, and my heart
gave a leap of love that had nothing to do with the fact he was ravishing me.

My fingers came up to trace the swipes of color on his cheek. He grinned
impishly, then dove for my other breast, pouncing upon
it with a flourish.

There was no time, as sweet heady anticipation slammed into direct, raw
sensuality. Unbidden, a high cry/scream wrenched out of my throat, startling me
and pleasing him.

His throat rumbled in what I was rapidly learning was a sound of approval and
satisfaction. Coming up for breath, he buried his face between my breasts,
grunting in pleasure as he wallowed between them.

He climbed onto the bed, pressing his body against mine, imprinting himself
into my memory forever.

Against my stomach, I could feel the hardness of him. Restlessly he moved,
rubbing himself against the abrasive hair at the peak of my mound. The rumble
in his throat dropped several decibels, thundering through my body and bringing
a fresh wave of wetness between my legs.

Urgently he captured my wrist, pressing my palm against the lean washboard of
his stomach. Impatiently he propped himself up with his one arm to give me
better access.

"Touch me." He demanded, a naked edge of need straining his usually
smooth voice.

My hand convulsed in response on his stomach, causing the muscles to twitch and
ripple.

"Touch me," he repeated, his tone softer,
pleading.

I needed no further permission, and I reached for him, wrapping him in the
coolness of my hand.

Immediately his eyes fluttered closed, and a deep moan came from his throat.

As I begin to stroke the length of him, the tenseness of his arm relaxed
slightly and he buried his face in my hair, inhaling my scent.

"Rin," he breathed, and there was something
broken and raw in his tone.

The change in him was immediate, with the temperature of the room dropping to a
frigid, pregnant silence. His entire being went stiff, as if in defiance of
what his intellect was telling him. The rumblings of pleasure evaporated from
his being with all the unnaturalness of a rippling pond suddenly becoming
glassy and still.

I was left adrift with my passion, disconnected from what had been a living
bond. Rapidly the warm glow died, and I clung to unnamed hopes that I knew I
couldn't keep. I withdrew my hand, knowing instinctively that it was expected
of me.

Released, he rolled off of me, sitting on the edge of the bed as he corrected
the tousled fall of his robe. Not once did he acknowledge me as he stood and
paced to the door. He opened it, so that the garden came into view.

I expected him to leave me there, or kick me out, so when he just leaned
against the frame and pondered the sight of the garden as if it was the most
intriguing thing all of a sudden, I was at a loss.

Self consciously I covered myself, belting the robe closed. A whiff of his
scent rose from it, mocking me now as it had comforted me before.

The line of his back was foreboding, his entire stance defensive. A shiver of
fear and the sharp, sudden numbness that comes after a deep wound,
snaked up my spine and I drew my legs to me, wrapping my arms around them
protectively. After that I made not a sound, waiting with the breathlessness of
the condemned, on the edge of hope and dismay.

At last he turned his eyes on me, and they were angry, so angry. It filled the
depths of his amber eyes and burned over bright, like a wasting fever. Deeper
still, there was a large amount of pain and self deprecation, but it was the
fear, the shadowing, encompassing fear I saw there, that made the breath hitch
in my chest. Regret slammed into me, and its darker cousin, guilt, slunk in on
its heels. Both sat atop my faltering heart and began to bay mournfully,
filling my ears until they rang.

*How could what felt so right a moment ago, turn into my darkest sin?* I
wondered illogically.

"What are you doing in my bed?" Sesshoumaru-sama
asked, his voice silky, purring, and keen enough to
split my heart anew.

Desperately my eyes flew to his face, seeking something I could reason with,
something that would understand the reasons that suddenly seemed petty and
selfish. I found nothing, not even the tolerance with which Sesshoumaru-sama
usually listened to my prattle.

Despondently, my eyes dropped to my hands, my mind working furiously to form an
acceptable answer.

[Sesshoumaru]

I took her silence and pronounced her guilty even before I became conscious of
the decision. So wrapped up in my hurt and anger, I did not for a moment stop
to consider the preciousness of the gift she had offered me. Instead, I
flinched and withdrew, seeking an ulterior motive, seeking the blade that
waited in the dark to strike.

The look on her face was tearing my heart to pieces, and I cast about, looking
for something with which I could hurt her, lashing out so that in blaming her I
could focus solely on my own pain.

*Rin has chosen someone.* Kisika's
voice repeated in my head. Subconsciously the hurt built its temple of
justification, and unable and unwilling to fight it off when it finally rose
through my conscious, I let it gain strength. It took command, steering me onto
a course where neither of us would be the same.

An image of the love-stricken Toushi flashed through
like a catalyst, starting the inevitable downward spiral towards the rifting of
our bond.

"How many men have there been?" My voice echoed into the too quiet.

"What?" she blinked, her bewildered expression believable.

"How many beds have you been climbing in?" I clarified.

"Only my own-and yours." She blushed as she
amended her answer.

"Not Lord Toushi's?" I prompted her, my
tone dripping with incredulousness. "Has he proposed yet?"

"Yes," Rin answered reluctantly, the fear
on her face rapidly melting away to reveal hurt, disbelief, and the beginnings
of pricked pride. The sadistic part of me rejoiced at this evidence of steel. I
was in the mood for a fight and sadistically sought to goad her into one.

"Ah, so you are making him wait so that he thinks you are a good
girl," I concluded ruthlessly.

"I am a good girl," Rin stated in a
defiant, but small voice.

I ignored her outburst, switching tactics. "Why were you in the garden
while I was bathing? Sneaking off for a tryst?"

"I was going to take a bath," she again defied me, her tone stronger.

The robe had been too small for someone of my height, and the pool had been
readied for someone. Unwilling to pursue a subject that she was right on, I
switched attacks yet again.

"If you are not a tramp, then why are you here?" I didn't wait for a
response, pressing onward. "Am I to be your last great conquest before you
are wed? Do you think me that easily fooled?"

"No," she answered snappishly.

"Apparently you did," I sneered sarcastically, letting the jibe in my
voice grate along her nerves.

"I didn't," she defended, coming to her feet.

"Then where is your fang? The one I ordered you to wear at all
times?" I pointed out triumphantly.

Her hand flew to her throat in a self conscious gesture. Finding nothing there,
she balled her hands into fists.

I gave her no room to protest her innocence. "Did you think that the
removal of such a small thing would bewilder me?"

"No!" She held her voice down with effort, her frustration fueling
her anger.

I smiled the terrible smile I only show to my prey and propped a hand on my
hip, striking a pose. I had been the darling of the ladies at court in my
youth, and now I used that to my advantage, knowing that the moonlight at my
back lit my hair in a striking halo.

"Then why are you here?" I asked, my voice its normal detached
coldness. I had her right where I wanted her.

She lifted eyes that were ancient and soul deep, knowing in a way only an earth
spirit might understand.

"Because I love you," she said simply.

Shock and fear rolled through me. No, no I couldn't be like my father. My blood
was pure, untainted. *Why do I hunger after a mere human girl?* I asked myself
desperately, but no answers came.

"You can't," I ordered, believing that this wasn't possible, knowing
that it was true.

"I do," she admitted softly, and in the moonlight her tears sparkled
as they fell.

"I don't want it," I cried, terrified that I would become like my
father and die from the sickness of the heart.

"Your presence offends me. Leave!" I commanded, my resolve
strengthening against the tide of emotions her words had released.

Her eyes dropped from mine, and it was a mercy, for I could not stand the
emptiness in them. She nodded once, gracefully, and stepped ito
the garden. A surge of longing, of bone shattering loneliness urged me to call
her back, to make her mine in the only way that mattered. I did neither, my
eyes hungrily eating up this last sight of her like a drug. She looked
beautiful in the moonlight, all silvered and blue shadow and I knew I would
carry that image with me to the end of my days.

Belatedly a thought occurred to me.

"How much did Kisika have a hand in this?"
I asked with only a trace of my former malice.

"Ask her," Rin chided me softly. "Will
you tell her something for me?"

The thought of refusing crossed my mind, but after such pettiness, I felt empty
of my usual rage.

"Yes," I said at last.

"Tell her I will keep my promise," Rin replied,
and the despair in her voice nearly tore me apart with the need to comfort her.

"What promise?" I asked.

A sad half smile creased her lips as she almost turned back to me.

"Ask her that too," she bid me, then
disappeared into her rooms.
- 7
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Red Strings of Fate