Inuyasha glanced over at her again for god knows the what-th time. She could feel him watching her, and she didn’t know why his nerves were so shot. The one off had happened forever ago, and unless he wasn’t telling her something, there wasn’t anything to be nervous or worried about. It wasn’t like her reputation was hanging by a thread or anything. She held back a sigh as trees rolled by from the car, trying to keep a pleasant smile on her face. What else could she do? Having left her priestess-hood behind her for him, there was no less way to save face than to double down on her decision... Even if after she’d laid down her holy position for him and found out he’d caused another sister to stumble. Not that she blamed Kikyou. Inuyasha was demanding and handsome in his own right. It was hard to say no to him when he was soft, and he had a talent for picking women he could make pliant at the drop of his fanged smirk. Right. Not only had she left her charge as a priestess, she had left it for a half-demon.
She felt so young, so foolish.
So filched.
The car rocked a bit with the uneven road as they headed in the summer heat to the shrine she tended to as a young woman, looking jealously out on the yellowing fields edging the mass of forest. This little bonfire ceremony was meant to be in celebration of her new predecessor, who oddly enough despite her one time mistake was still going to keep her robes of purity. Sex and demons, oddly enough didn’t disqualify you from your holiness. But guilt kept her from moving on with what she felt was a lie, and to be indecisive in what one wanted in the service of the gods never seemed to be a good idea. So here she was, in the seat of a white luxury car that was a magnet for all the dust on the road, traveling to say one last farewell to her youth.
She loved Inu, right? Deep down she wasn’t so sure. There were a multitude of small regrets surrounding if she had stayed, not traveled, and put down roots in the tiny town where she trained.
That was the other thing. She had dreamed of him last night. There was a memory of communing with the high priestess of the shrine, relaying all of her worries and doubts, and it had somehow turned to a light-hearted laughing of good memories and kinder times. He had come up in conversation - how could he not? Having taken on a more traditional role than his brother as a protector of the land, in the land, he was constantly here. Despite feeling the weight of his eyes, meeting their heavy gaze and returning a soft smile to his placid study, he had only ever spoken a few handful of words to her. It was part of the reason for the original conversation - the doubt she had in being able to wholeheartedly devote herself to a completely unsullied, undistracted life to the gods.
“You know,” she had said, “He finds you glamorous. Beautiful in your own wild right.”
She had laughed and shrugged.
“Someone like him looking at someone like me and saying such a thing would find themselves wanting when the find out how deep in the dirt I like to work. Silliness.”
The priestess had smiled softly, but dropped the conversation, even if the memory was branded into her mind, giving her the deepest flush of satisfaction every time she thought about it. And now, in this car, with his brother claiming to love him she was thinking about those small, fleeting handful of memories. The heat she had caught, so few times. The lingering touch of his hand on her thigh, sitting beside him trying to focus on meditation and failing miserably because of the hot flare of need that flashed through her at the memory of the high priestess’ words. His voice, and the exiguous handful of words spoken in a smooth, almost buttery tone to her. None of which had been indecent, but she couldn’t help the way her heart fluttered, or the way her lower abdomen tickled when he spoke. She had never run her fingers through his barely kept, neck tickling hair, but the temptation to do so just to see if the pastel color of silvery blue made it softer than it looked still made her fingers itch.
“Hey. You okay?”
She started at his voice, and she felt small chord of guilt as she found her mind unable to focus much on the question, choosing to submerge herself in the past and what could have been.
“Hm.. Fine.”
“You’re just so quiet.”
“Just thinking, Inuyasha.” she answered so softly, she almost didn’t hear herself say it. He seemed nervous, rambling ahead in a now one-sided conversation about how she must miss this place, how long its been since he’d been here, what the weather was like. She was still thinking about the memory of his face, and the quiet masking of emotion when it had come out she was leaving the shrine to follow a more worldly path. It had been years since she’d seen him even if it didn’t feel like that long ago, and she wondered. What would he think of her now? Surely disappointment would color his reactions - especially she was with his brother.
Or would it be the cool, quiet pleasantness his usually towering presence provided when he shielded emotions from the room. He was always so reserved, the brief moments of passion she had sometimes regarded as a fluke when she tried to convince herself it was not a lost opportunity- it was an impossible one. One she had imagined as a horny young know-nothing that didn’t have any clue what she wanted with her life. The regret was still a tiny glowing ember she occasionally looked back on in wonder.
The car rolled to a stop and she knew she’d be overrun by the swarthy humidity of home.
“Listen..” His voice finally drew her attention and his face was marked with more guilt than she’d felt in the last twenty minutes of reminiscing regrets. “I can’t tell you again how sorry I am. I know this month has been the fucking worst for you. But.. You know I do love you right?”
His brows were knitted together, eyes trying desperately to convey emotion he felt deeply enough to really attempt to get it across. Searching his face, it dawned on her.
She felt... almost nothing.
It was very nearly agonizing if not for how numb everything was. There should be hurt here with his cheating, right? Her heart should be irreparable, shouldn’t it? As she looked at him there was just... nothing. It wasn’t relief. That would have been a cool balm. It was so much worse than alleviation. A soft, knowing smile spread across her face as she reached forward with this hope, maybe... Cupping his cheek, she finally answered him, “Of course I do.”
Her soul screamed at her, struggled inside of her for he barest of moments and fell silent behind her smile, which slowly dropped as she exited the vehicle.
~*~
He knew she was there the second her foot hit the gravel. The moment the door opened and her scent drifted through the thickness of every oak, the rotting leaves of summer in all of it’s heat. Bless the dryness, for without it her sweetness would be lost amongst the fresh spring of forest, the wet of the winter, and the turning of fall. It revitalized his lungs, gave his massive body pause, and he lunged through the forest trying to shake the clinging remnants of a desperation that had touched him like tormentuous little feathers throughout his life knowing her. Respect for her station had stilled his hands before. Not knowing what was blazing behind those brilliant blues had stopped his feet in unsurety he had never been familiar with. Even the hormonal traces he could track for emotion were lost in the storm of her raw, pure, energy, and it left him with no real way to figure out who she was. He would have to figure her out like any other human, and his indecisiveness in his piddling attempts had cost her presence. Surely it was his fault. The one, maybe two times he had attempted to entice her physically seemed like complete failures; he could see in her eyes she was not ready and he had retreated with a kind word back to himself. Her arrival marked the beginnings of the celebration of the shrine, it’s fires would be lit one last time by her before she officially surrendered her priestess-hood to her sister priest Kikyou.
In her own right, Kikyou was as powerful if not moreso than she was. The land would welcome her as it’s spiritual manager. There was more surety in Kikyou - her counterpart tended to be wild and untamed.
Blazing blue...
He came to the edge of the forest in a sliding halt, dust added to the air of a white vehicle parked to the side of the road just a short walk from the front steps of the shrine and another familiar scent mired hers. Inuyasha. He fought a scowl as compacted his form into it’s human shape. There had been rumors he was the reason she questioned her spiritual duty. He hadn’t really wanted to believe it, and still didn’t fully agree it was the only reason she was leaving completely. Where he hadn’t seen her in so many years with her still making up her mind, it seemed she finally had as he stepped out onto the road behind them as they passed beneath the brilliant red shinto gate. Gone was her traditional red and white garb, replaced with a pair of shorts that hugged her hips lovingly, a short-sleeved red white and black flannel shirt adorning her torso. He reached out and nearly called her name wanting her to turn and look at him with that fire that made him question his sanity when his brother’s hand came around her waist and settled there, and the desire to speak died on his lips.
She had chosen, hadn’t she? That cool energy that followed her was not the same brilliant, unstained flash of power, surely it was a sign she was at peace with her adjudicature? He felt his throat bob as he swallowed hard. Then it was for him to play nice and nothing else. The arm reaching came to his side, fist clenching as pinpricks of regret made the rest of his body numb and his will was not enough to prod him forward.
The cool assurance of her decisive energy was what pushed him forward.
~*~
The stones were cleaned, and if she could describe the whiteness of the quartz she would say it was polished almost. Everything was festive. Lamps were hung, red along with the rest of the shrine. Beyond the holiness of the shrine, there was a small area that was set up alongside, complete with a stage and booths of vendors that had been invited to celebrate the summer solstice alongside them. She’d helped arrange this so many times before, and the familiar voices, smells and sights as she passed through everything filled her with a sense of deja-vu that was painful. Everything in her ached and she missed it. When they finally came across the high priestess, the elderly woman was speaking with the older priestess, Kikyou, who was nodding as she took note of the high priestess’ words. The elderly woman glanced and saw her from the corner of her eye and called out happily, face crinkling all around the edges in a happy smile as she opened her arms. She stepped into the welcome warmth of the high priestess’ hug, living in these seconds of familiarity.
“You look so well. Are you?” The priestess asked. Those knowing eyes would see her lie, and even as she let a smile cross her lips, she didn’t feel it in her eyes.
“I am. I see everything is in full swing!” She ramped up her energy, trying to appear more excited than she was curious to satisfy her memories. The older woman paused before answering, clearly calling her on her lie in the most silent way possible.
“It was most certainly not as easy these last couple of years without you as it was when you planned, but we are still grateful for all the notes on the booths you had from when you did.” A small smile played along the older woman’s lips as she looped one arm through hers and began walking with her. “Surely your companion can do without you for a few minutes, yes Inuyasha?”
He blinked owlishly at her knowledge of him, then his eyes widened at the presence behind them. She felt someone approach, but was unable to put a face to the energy. A glance over her shoulder had her stomach dropping.
It was him. Not even he was in traditional clothing, choosing a much more common clothing than his usual splendor when there were visitors. His faded jeans were stained with dirt and dust, an old printed tee faded from washing. His hair was mussed around his ears, eyes soft and face as unreadable as ever.
“Sesshoumaru.”
“Kagome.”
She wanted to drink the way he said her name, lean back and swallow it with eyes closed in the pleasurable familiarity of it. It made her skin shiver, even as she fought to control her reactions.
“Please, take your brother on a tour. He’s never been to this particular celebration, has he?” The older woman chuckled, tugging her along to walk amongst the booths and off towards the small houses where she used to live. They walked in silence together, the high priestess occasionally patting her hand.
“I’ve always loved the way this forest smells in the summertime. When I was but a girl we had a small farm, and enough grazing room that when summer came it smelled like the sweetness of the hay and ripe berries from the bushes in the forest. You had to walk a ways to find them, but when you did they were an experience in themselves.” The older woman reminisced, staring off into the distance as she pictured it. She could too; these were charming memories she had of this place. Even now, beyond the smell of the booths beginning to warm for the guests that were coming from the small town the shrine associated with, she could smell blackberries ripening in the dry air.
“You are not happy, little one.”
A smirked formed before she could stop it.
“I knew you’d call me on it. I’m grateful you didn’t do so in front of Inuyasha and Kikyou.”
The woman nodded as they came to the cement slab of the steep to a smallish house, painting a tannish brown that you almost lost in the dark of the woods at night.
“Was it so bad..?” the woman asked, and Kagome considered her answer.
“I don’t know.” Her answer was blunt and honest. “I feel nothing but regrets right now. My mind is not where it was four years ago. Shouldn’t I be dying inside? I feel like I should be angry, but there is just... Nothing for what happened.. You do know what happened, don’t you?”
The woman pursed her lips.
“I know Kikyou was involved, but nothing beyond silly rumors of fooling around. From what I know, she’s been infatuated with that boy for years, even before he met you.”
That had her glancing down at the woman in surprise. The wizened old woman looked up at her expression and pity began to fill her eyes.
“You didn’t know it was more than once.”
She cleared her throat and felt the frustrated knot in her stomach tighten.
“Well, now I do.” There was a long quiet pause as the stopped in front of the neatly manicured rosebushes that were beginning to die in the summer heat. The yellows and pinks were turning brown, falling slowly to the ground any time a breeze picked up.
“I miss this place. All the memories I have younger.” She smiled as her hands cupped one particularly young rosebud and smelled. “Every time I look back I see this place and I can smell it, feel the warmth of it.”
“You were happy.” the older woman chuckled. “Even if you had no idea what you wanted. Your family loved to see you happy. The whole shrine glowed when you were happy.”
She shrugged. “It wasn’t just me. This place has more reliable people to see to its grounds.”
The older woman shook her head.
“You were attached to this place in a way I have never seen. Storms when you were sad, fair weather when you were happy, humidity when you were worried or angry. We could time the weather by your tempestuous mood.”
She looked back apologetically at the priestess. “That was never my intention.”
The woman waved her away with both hands.
“If the land is happy, who am I to chase away what brings it joy? Tears water the ground, life is a circle of passion that should be pursued. Only when it is dispirited should it be questioned.”
The silence stretched between them as a warm breeze picked her hair up and tousled it.
“Kagome, it seems you have questions you need to answer. Take your time here. I will keep your company. There is much to keep us busy and distracted. The door is open, my dear, and nothing was touched after you left. There was no reason to touch the old house with the newer building's housing being more comfortable. It has been kept up.” She finally finished, walking back towards the bustling of the fair beginning to see its first children and families.
She watched her sashay away, swallowing heavily as she held tears back. That woman had always understood her in ways she couldn’t comprehend, and the relief she felt when someone could see her for who she was so effortlessly.
Her hands reached for the steady beams of the stoop, fingers running along the worn white paint as she stepped up and put her hand on the screen door, pushing down on the button to open it before palming the round doorknob. It still shook a little, still a bit small for its own latch and she twisted and pushed. The door swung open with ease, welcoming her back.
The living room extended all the way to the back of the house, which she could stride through in at least six wide steps, and to the left was the kitchen and with a few bare cupboards painted white. It was empty, only the worn, polished wood floor gleaming in the afternoon light . She could still see all her furniture before it had been moved into storage or sold. A couch she had brought from her family home in Tokyo would have sat facing the wall, where she had refurbished an old fireplace taken from the demolished main house to house books and even a small tv. A window to her immediate right on the wall facing the stoop of the house still had a gauzy white dressing that the light streamed through, and the house ate up greedily. There were two door ways to her right, one beside the other. One was a room she had put all of what was left of her family’s belongings in the farthest corner of the house and shut, never to open unless she absolutely needed to wade through all the haunting memories of a family gone too soon to get something buried with the rest of the unused items. The other... She walked slowly towards it and saw they had kept her old bed. It’s head board from when she was a girl stayed in the storage room, and it sat on the edge of the wall to the left, a window directly opposite to her and another on the right wall where an AC unit stuck out of it. Nothing had a speck of dust on it, so it had been cleaned regularly. Exiting her empty bedroom she walked through the echoing living room, poking her head into the bathroom to see the very unique old tub she had spent enough time in over the years to meditate on a lifetime. It had been put in the corner, and made a triangle with a shower head on the far wall that emptied into its jade colored tub. A toilet was on the right wall, and immediately to her right was the sink and it’s mirrored medicine cabinet. There was only a plastic shower curtain swept off to the side. From here, she set out to open the back door that led to a screen porch which looked to have been recently rebuilt. The wood still smelled new.
It was screened in with a washer and dryer she had purchased to the left, and another screened door that led to the woods behind the tiny house. Weeds and flowers alike grew in the back, swaying with the gentle breeze that kicked up occasionally, and the woods a sprint away. There was a river through those dark slots between the trunks of those trees; she had visited it often and found meditation there. Folding her arms across her chest, she debated making the journey and disappearing where nobody but the high priestess could find her. Every fiber of her reached out in gossamer tendrils she could almost see as she reached out to the darkness of the woods and was shaken from her desire by a voice that inspired almost as much desire.
“I thought it rude to not at least come by and say hello.”
Oh why... Why was he here when all she wanted was peace from her indecision? She took a steadying breath and turned slowly on one heel, her face as placid as his when she finally met burnished gold with blazing blue. He was but an arms length away, having come from one side of the house to the back where she stood.
“Yeah. I would agree with that.” She teased. “I apologize, I didn’t sense you coming. I was a little..” she looked around the house and felt a smile envelope her, the tightness in her chest squeezing. “Lost in memory I guess.”
He made a low hum as he nodded once.
“I understand. I did not mean..” He motioned around, “To interrupt. Would you prefer.. I left?”
The squeezing was unbearable and she hesitated. Surely he could see it in her face?
“Y’know... Normally I would say yeah.”
He nodded again, moving to turn and she don’t know what possessed her to reach, but before she could stop herself the downiest of touches had him pausing, looking down at her hand then into her face.
“Maybe its not a terrible thing I have company today. I feel a bit empty.”
He raised a brow in question as she retreated back to herself.
“Come on in. Just getting lost in a few memories.”
He didn’t say much else, merely followed her as she walked through the house again, unable to focus on memories as much as his presence.
“It was said you had decided to permanently leave the shrine.” He said offhandedly. She gave an exaggerated nod as though to try and solidify the position she’d been trying to take.
“I’m still coming to terms with it. Not sure it’s what I really want anymore, but there’s a world of possibility beyond this place.” She answered softly as her fingers played along the light switches.
“Have you ever thought about leaving?”
He had been wandering around the kitchen, finally settling on the counter when she asked her question. She leaned against the frame of the entryway to the kitchen, arms hanging listlessly as she shouldered it waiting for his feedback. Maybe it would give her a clarity in her own decisions...
“I have. And I did. Then I came back to where my soul felt most at home.” His answer was serene. “It isn’t like they would decline one as age old that is connected to this place in a way as we are.”
She chuckled mirthlessly. “I’m not nearly as old as you. And its still hard to believe I have such a strong connection with it after abandoning it for a flight of fancy.”
He came away from the counter, all that tranquility maddening. She wanted a piece of it. Would he object if she chiseled a piece off for herself?
“Were you happy when you left?”
“Absolutely.” She nodded once in surety.
“Then it was what you wanted.”
She nodded, looking at the floor now as he approached. There was no organizing her thoughts. They were a scattered railway of trains that had her stomach clenching. One raced towards the way he smelled like ozone before a massive storm, and if it was anything like the dangerous exhilaration of being out in the middle of the rain while lightning struck the ground around you. Another was plowing through with a screaming reminder of what she’d done, the promises she’d made to Inuyasha. Others were scared to lose the opportunities leaving here would hold. All those racing thought slammed to a violent stop as her breath caught in her throat when firm warm fingers tilted her head up. His emotions were legible this time on his face. Brows knit as he studied, curious confusion and study as he took her in.
~*~
Everything she was feeling was suddenly laid bare in a blast of scent able emotion that he’d never felt from her. For once, it occurred to him she was so well guarded of her heart and self that the energy that usually kept a storm of purity around her had dropped in a flood of insecurities. She wasn’t sure. There wasn’t anything about this swirl of emotion storming the house, draining dry heat smothering the refreshing breeze outside in fear and consternation.
“Is it not what you want anymore?” He released her chin and she swallowed air like she’d been forgetting to breath.
“I.. I don’t know.” She stammered, leaning away from him. He scolded himself. Touching her, even if it had felt right in the moment, was not what he should have done. She spun on one foot, suddenly pacing. The heat outside seemed to grow as she babbled.
“I don’t want to lose out by not going anywhere but here, life happens everywhere and I want to be a part of it. But I love this place and it’s memories. I don’t want to sacrifice adventure for comfort, but not all experiences are good ones, and there is no promise there is anything different here. I mean..” She shrugged, both arms akimbo, “We always seemed like ships passing in the night; there never seemed to be a good time to explore other possibilities where we stood, and now it feels like a regret, and I hate having regrets.”
Passing ships? They always seemed like ships in the night. He felt the shadow of amusement pass over his face and he quashed it before she could be offended. It sent a thrill of hope through him. If she felt like there had been a possibility then, he had not misread her.
“Perhaps it was more the moment was not right. We are different creatures now, would you not agree?”
That halted her ramblings, and she looked over at him wide-eyed, surprised at the sudden insight.
“I guess. Never thought about it like that..?”
He nodded, gaze falling out the window of the kitchen now. The breeze had picked up, the sweltering of the heat a little less stifling in the house.
“Then I proffer this bit of wisdom from my own travel.” He paused, glancing at her to see if she was receptive. Her heavy silence was telling.
“This place does not just go away. The space has memories of you as well as you of it. People and things change, presences and the like. But the place will always welcome you back.”
He saw her throat work, mouth open to speak and the words faltered.
“What if...” She finally managed, “What if one day it burns down around you, and there is no coming back home.”
Ah.
The trauma that made her so indecisive. It was not something she spoke of publicly, and had shown remarkable resilience to when she arrived. It was also why he had at first kept his distance. When one was healing from past trauma, sometimes it was best to let one dwell with those more knowledgeable in developing human responses to it. He was no such expert most days, but time had softened those edges. That being said, they were no less blunt.
“I did not promise everything would be here, nor everyone. But the memories of this place will be here when you need a reminder of home. It does not go away.”
The afternoon sun was growing long, and surely he had spent enough time ruining her peace. He made to excuse himself and she paused him again with that one nearly unknowable touch on the back of his shoulder as he passed her to leave through the front door that sent shockwaves through him as he contained himself. He was the last thing she needed assaulting her senses until she uttered, “Don’t go.”
He froze with his hand wrapped around the knob, muscles of his forearm twitching.
Please... don’t.... he was pleading inside of himself.
“I’m not ready.”
He fought with himself in those moments before he finally opened his mouth again.
“You said we were like ships passing in the night like we were not acutely, painfully, aware of one another...” His voice struggled to stay hollow and emotionless. “I never sensed it but you clearly were. Has it crossed your mind perhaps I was as well?”
Her breathing was flighty; he could hear it.
“No.”
He hummed and his hand gripped the door firmer, beginning to twist.
“I never wanted to be a distraction. Or a regret.”
He wanted to hit the door, put his fist straight through it as his stomach clenched.
“Do you regret?” He asked, the stillness around them loaded with gunpowder. Her answer would either wash it away, or ignite it. Did she know? He prayed she did, because he was losing his mind to the stray hope that perhaps, the ships would crash into one another, and they would finally be ready for it. Even if it meant a burning wreck to pick through when it was over, he wanted desperately to will away the self-condemnation of contrition.
“A lot, lately.”
~*~
His hand released the doorknob, and the once shrouded restrained man she knew before turned on her with brows furrowed in frustration. Her heart was jumping out of her chest as he closed the distance in one unhurried stride before his hand was on her cheek and his lips were pressed into hers as she stared at his clenched eyelids in shock. The warmth of his hand, the insistent movement of his mouth... One couldn’t regret if it was fulfilled, right? That numbness was giving way to the fear of the unknown, the exhilarating crush of fulfillment beneath the domination of need riding through her. Her eyes slid shut, hand opposite of his on her cheek raking into his hair and pulling him to meet her to satisfy all of this pent up energy.
“Please.” Her voice strained as he turned her towards the solidity of the beam between the kitchen and the living room of the tiny house. Her back bumped into the wall and somehow she was trapped between the wall and the line of his body, mouth being crushed under another wave of building ardor that felt almost frenzied when he pulled away. One of his hands was buried in her hair, the other playing with the line of the white camisole she’d worn under the short sleeved flannel that suddenly felt stifling.
“Tell me to stop. That we’ll both regret doing this.”
It was said to her face with pleading eyes. The keys were being handed to her in this moment; they could stop and it would be no harm no foul. But.. She didn’t want to. She didn’t need that pang of regret, the lack of the memories she had wished she’d pursued. No, this time she wasn’t about to let fear of the unknown stop her.
“What if we regret not doing this?” She asked, meeting his pleading gold with burning blue. Both her hands now fisted in his hair and pulled his head down to meet her mouth. He groaned, the hand that was in her hair now firmly grasping her hips. Pulling her up the wall so he didn’t need to bend to kiss her anymore, she felt his abdomen push her firmly into the wall now.
But his brother...
She pushed him from her mind with ease when his pressing hips held her in place so his hands could explore, pushing the cami up her abdomen and playing with the smooth flesh of her stomach. It was seconds that felt like an eternity in heaven, and her legs wrapped around his waist to meet his own desire with hers. In a moment she was whisked from the wall into the bedroom. He had to duck down beneath the doorframe that was just barely too low for him to comfortably walk through and between his endlessly zealous kisses and searching hands, he lower her onto the mattress of the bed that had been left alone in the house. She was struggling out of the flannel, the speed of their intimacy picking up as the light outside the windows began to turn from bright yellow of noon to orange, the beginnings of dusk. There was no motion between the lightest touches of his hands over each inch of newly bared skin that was enough to quell the need she felt coursing through her. The nick of his claws spoke the same for him, and her eyes stung with unmet desire. His mouth ghosted in a warm trail over her cheek, plundering her neck and shoulder, fingers ghosting the straps of the cami out of the way so he could run the tip of his nose over her shoulder.
She squirmed beneath the feather light touches, wishing for more and knowing it was enough and not all at the same time. To scream all the roaring emotions and needs would not have been enough, and they were both panting so hard, it was a miracle she wasn’t shaking. She was breathless, weightless, felt like she was floating five feet above the mattress every time he touched a new stretch of bare skin. Somehow she’d lost her cami, and now in only her unbuttoned jean shorts which she hardly remembered doing between him kissing up the middle of her ribcage, nipping and licking at the sensitive skin there. Gods, where were they even anymore? He straightened above her, still standing with both feet on the floor. Kicking shoes off, he snatched at the edge of his shirt and tore it away from his body, throwing it wherever their clothes were going as he took up his place between her thighs again. The warmth brought back when he stretched over her, caging her with his right arm and brushing the length of her torso before circling back to tease one nipple with his hand and the other with his mouth had her crying out, nails raking over his newly exposed back. His skin positively glowed in the orange light, hair going from pastel silver backlit nearly white and yellow in it. He was beautiful. One particularly hard suck from his mouth, scrape from his teeth sent her billowing into pleasurable shocks.
“Don’t stop.” She breathed, hands swiping over his shoulders to bury into his hair at the nape of his neck again, pressing his face into her breast as he ravished it and yelping when he pinched the other sensitive peak in time with his laving tongue. “Never stop.”
Every part he touched was aflame.
How was she so hot without literally being on fire? Sweat was dripping down her body, and his talented tongue and hand lifted from her as did the rest of his body. Now they were tugging her shorts down her thighs, and the nerves that should have been there when he dragged her panties down with them were nowhere to be found. All that she could wonder on was what other delightful things he was going to do with her exposed body, and he did not leave her wanting. The heavy material hit the window with a dull thud as he hauled her up by her hips, hooking her knees over his shoulder as he knelt at the edge of the bed on the floor. His eyes, those delicious gold were looking over her like she was the last woman on earth and he was a man starving. She reached for him but not fast enough; her shoulders were now planted at the edge of the bed and his face was sliding down between her thighs until his mouth was met with the moistened seam of her sex. A gasp of shock and pleasure as she arched into his warm puff of breath and exploring tongue along the seam was accompanied by his groan of approval. Bolts of pleasure shook her and he hadn’t even dipped into her folds -
She very nearly screamed but it choked in her throat when his tongue fully swept over her sex. Fingers clawed at the mattress for some kind of purchase and didn’t find the anchor of a sheet as he held her in this position with one strong arm, his other palming the flat expanse of her belly, stroking her skin. His tongue matched the movements, lapping all of her in full, sure strokes that made her whimper and shake.
“So sweet...” He rumbled against one thigh, licking his lips at one point. Any hesitation she had seen in him before had been completely left by the wayside. “Like blackberries in buttermilk..”
The intensity of what she was feeling had her near tears, and describing her taste as one of her favorite deserts was like being pumped full of adrenaline and affection.
“I’ll never stop..”
That deep voice was reassuring, warm like a blanket on her already overheated skin, and when his tongue plunged home for a second round that left her quaking as she tried to contain her pleasure, she finally let go and lost the fight for control. Her cry bordered a scream as he plunged that warm, pliable tongue into her fluttering channel over and over until she was so wet, it wasn’t enough anymore. Before she could even make the request for more, he had pulled his exploring hand back and was sliding it into her cunt, thrusting gently and pressing into her where he was licking.
She couldn’t even stop the stream of pleadings as she panted beneath him. Her vision swam with need, and there was no real way to tell when the orgasm had come, as her body was so sensitive it seemed to carry for so long. His thrusting fingers hit home so many times, she was shaking around him constantly until he finally relented, slowly lowering her hips to the mattress and removing his mouth slowly from her and his fingers. A sticky stream of her natural lubricant followed him in protest, and he gave her a smirk that had her needing more, more, more.
She slid to the edge of the bed, standing on shaking legs and put her palms on his abdomen. Turning him, she pushed until he was sitting on the bed, and continued to press until he was laying beneath her and the curtain of her hair. One hand managed to fumble the button and fly of his jeans open, and a deep pang of pleasure hit her when she realized he wore no underwear beneath them. Only the soft, velvet of his cock and all its hardness pressed into her wrist, wrapped in her hand as she pumped him. He let out a hiss, head flung back and straining back into the mattress.
There was no waiting. She wouldn’t. Doubt would not creep in and steal this from her, she decided firmly as she managed to push his jeans down just enough she wouldn’t feel the pinch of his zipper when she rode him. Aligning his cock with her entrance, she felt the deep, satisfying press of the head of his cock slowly penetrate the unfulfilled tightness of her body. Fully seated had both of their mouths falling open in a breathless pant, and his hands that were once searching the mattress for the same purchase she had been looking for earlier found a decidedly more satisfying anchor on her hips. He squeezed, and so did she completely by accident in such a way a burst of pleasure sent sparks behind her eyes.
“God, do that again.”
He squeezed tighter, the pricks of his claws having her seeing stars.
“Oh my god, you’re going to make me cum and you haven’t even moved.” He panted darkly.
Catching her breath to the best of her ability, she gave an experimental roll of her hips and he swore, back bowing. A chill from her hip and a tearing sound told her he’d released one of her hips and had ripped the mattress. His loins pushed upwards impossibly hard, and the warm waves of pleasure enveloping her had them rolling into one another. Her breasts heaved, head fell back as she rode out every moment of seemingly endless bliss. One position rolled into another, and where she was riding, he was now atop her, plunging into the slick heat of her cunt finding new engaging ways to stroke the inside of her body. Every ridge was a new ride, every pump was a slick gateway to sweeter release. His hand around her throat, brushing her pulse as his hips rolled with butterfly-like gentleness had her pressing her hands around his wrists, wanting to know what it would be like to feel his hand tighten. He didn’t disappoint.
Knowing pressure as he fucked her had her seeing stars again, and he easily swept out of her weeping cunt to cum on her stomach. Where she thought he was done, he shocked her by flipping her on the mattress, pressing her face into it as he plunged back in and gripped her hips without mercy had her tight around him despite the sheer amount of liquid dripping down the insides of her thighs.
The light was waning. He’d gone from burning orange, to pale silver as dusk set in, and his motions were slowing from frenzied passion to sweet elongation of ecstasy. He wasn’t wasting a second of time, mouth engaged somewhere, hands stroking, tongue tasting. Neither was she; her hips rolled in perfect time, taking control when she felt he wasn’t going fast enough, fingers drawing a hard line with her nails up his abdomen and occasionally biting his sensitive ear when he was being spectacularly accommodating. She was on top of him again, riding in a rush to release as he drove into her from below, arms wrapping her breasts and torso to his face from the edge of the bed so he had purchase on the floor. This was it; the climax of climaxes, she could feel it build so powerfully from the middle of her body stretching upwards as well as down that all of her tingled with its coming.
He groaned, grip on her tightening as heat coursed through both of them until it hit her like a hammer. Tension sang through every over sensitized nerve ending and her pussy clamped over his cock in a vice grip that had him struggling to fuck her, she gripped him so tightly. An agonized sob left her lips, her nails dug into his flesh and left bloodied scratches as she shook uncontrollably and he roared. They would be leaving their marks on one another, scars for sure at this point.
But not an ounce of regret plucked at the edges of what was left of her conscious being as she soared through that height of pleasure, back bowing hard enough she could see out the window of the house.
There was no shock or surprise, no feeling when her glazed eyes noticed Inuyasha staring confounded at her. The man under her pulsed into her once more and it drew another cry from her, eyes clenching shut as her vision became blurry and tunneled. He caught her, cradled her, leaning back slowly still impaled in her warmth until he was lying with her on his chest. She didn’t want to move, so she didn’t. His arms were warmer than any blanket she’d had on this bed. Fingers stroked through her sweat mired hair, scratching sweetly at her scalp.
She could smell the storm outside coming. The mugginess of the day had hinted towards a storm, but the telltale scent of ozone flashing in the air tipped off the rain. This. The swirl of familiar smells and experiences that matched the sweet coziness of home. She was wrapped in it, and if this was what real lovehad the potential to be, she wanted it. Of this one thing she was sure. Any other circumstance could be dealt with, but there was nothing that could keep her from this feeling of home. His chest rose and fell slowly as she fell asleep to its rhythm, mouth watering with the deep hope that the river’s banks tomorrow had endless sun ripened blackberries as it always did in the summer. That’s what she wanted to do tomorrow. Nothing else mattered beyond that.