Eros and Psyche: First Night by Lyra

Sight, Sound, Touch

-Eros and Psyche: First Night-

Part I

Sight, Sound, Touch

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[From Eros Exordinem: Chapters 16-19]

...The glittering, wailing entourage brought Kagome to the cliffs that bordered the city and reached out over the Sea. It was a dark place, dampened by the everlasting spume of the waves; a hard place, and cold, and not one where mortals liked to linger long.

Three times, a call went up from the men her father had sent with her:

“The daughter of the King is come! Arise, Beast, and accept or deny thy bridal sacrifice!”

Three times, there was no answer. Uncertainty moved among the members of her entourage like a living thing; and then sleep...

Sesshomaru watched from the distance as dark and viscid sleep dripped onto the eyelids of each mortal, Kagome last of all. She lay like a golden doll on the dark ground; the scent of fear was thick and grey around her.

In the hands of the West Wind, Kagome rose, her silks fluttering, and was wrapped in a veil and a curtain of shadow.

A gust moved westward; Sesshomaru stayed, and watched the humans. When they woke, they found the Princess missing.

There was wailing; Sesshomaru smiled to himself.

They thought she was dead; they would not go looking for her.

Kagome slept through the balance of the day, and only woke when the twilight was entering the deep purples that herald night. She had been laid on a soft bed; warm breezes moved gauze curtains aside and tickled her nose with the scents of the sea.

She heard a voice behind her, felt nearly in the same moment a pair of hands reaching around from behind with a piece of heavy silk.

“Welcome, my bride, to your new home.”

The silk was dark; as dark as the purple sky. Her unseen husband drew it across her eyes, and tied it tight.

“You may not look upon me, my bride. That is the one rule, the one law that I must lay on you; to protect you, my love.”

“So the blindfold -”

“It will save you from temptation, beautiful Kagome.”

Her fingers reached up, touching the fabric; it was secure, and let in not even the least bit of light.

“Must I wear it always, h-husband?”

She heard a growl that she knew was meant to calm her.

“During the day, walk about free as you wish. At night, when I am with you, you will wear this.”

[End of Excerpt]

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Carefully, Sesshomaru's fingers traced the edges of the blindfold that obscured Kagome's vision. She felt his touch linger at the tops of her cheeks and on her forehead...and then again, beside her nose. His hands moved freely, slipping down the side of her neck, across her collarbone, along her shoulder, and then lower, skimming across the tops of her breasts.

Kagome shuddered and let out a breath; her fingers tightened in her gown, twisting the fabric that covered her thighs. The lack of sight made every sensation more intense; she could feel the heat and moisture of his breath against her skin, the rough pattern of his calluses...something sharp that whispered against her nerves, just beyond his fingertips.

To be touched so by a stranger – one she had not even seen – was frightening...but not as frightening as it could have been. She wondered if her new husband was giving her a kindness; if he meant this way to hide from her the fact that she was married to a monster; that she was, in truth, his prisoner.

But his hands felt like the hands of a man, not the hands of a beast, and he was being so gentle, so kind to her...

No, the blindfold was not that frightening, nor was his presence. It was the tingling in her flesh that terrified her; the trails of heat that ran across her skin wherever his hands touched her.

Perhaps Sesshomaru did it purposefully, perhaps not. Perhaps it was only the natural consequence of his presence; of the fact that it was Eros himself who desired her for his lover.

Whatever the cause, she wanted; his hands on the tops of her breasts, skimming down the sides of her body, made her nipples into hard, obvious points. When he touched them, testing her reactions, she moaned and then bit her lip, ashamed.

Was this how a princess acted? A daughter of the king...

As if he could read her mind – and perhaps, she thought, he could – he spoke, addressing her doubts.

“A princess should have only the best, beautiful Kagome. Only the best...of everything. That includes the best pleasures, wife; pleasures I will teach you. Do you understand?”

He tightened the grip of two fingers on each of her nipples; she moaned again, flushed, nodded.

“I want to hear your moans, your groans, your screams and cries of pleasure. I want to tease them from you, take them from you – they please me, wife.”

He pulled on her nipples again, more forcefully this time, and then pulled her against his body in a passionate embrace. He silenced her moan with his mouth and took her first kiss; she shuddered when his tongue licked her lips and slid past them.

She had never been kissed, never been touched. She did not understand the sensations that were growing in her; she did not understand how his tongue moving on her tongue could intensify them so much.

When he pulled away from her, she trembled with conflicting desires. She had been trained too well to say anything – in protest or in desire; she would not have able to decide even if she had been able to speak. She wanted him to come closer; to kiss her again, but she fumbled with the thought that she should be glad that he had stepped away.

It only mattered for a moment; he was very close to her again very swiftly, and this time she felt his hands moving aside the straps of her gown, pulling it down until it slipped past her hips and fell in folds around her feet.

The warm breeze that had woken her was suddenly chill against her skin. A shiver twitched over her body, from her toes to her scalp. She felt infinitely alive, tied intimately to the sensations of each nerve, and a little gasp escaped her each time his fingers touched her skin.

For the second time, he captured her in his strong grasp, but this time she felt his bare skin against her breasts. Her nipples tightened further in response. The dark of the blindfold ceased to matter; she could feel lean muscles, a manly shape, the smoothness of his skin and his hard arousal all pressed tightly against her.

Her hands wandered into a smooth, tickling mass; his hair, longer than her reach, the individual strands thick but silky. She touched his back beneath it, and then curled her fingers against his skin as he reached one hand between them and rubbed his thumb back and forth across something -

She was almost limp in his arms, bewitched by bliss. She had never felt anything like this in her life; no one had ever told her that to be with a man was like this - how did he know? How did he know to find these places, terrible, wonderful places in her body? How did he know to do these things to her – to move his fingers just so, to kiss her in such a way?

Wetness slipped down her thighs; she heard herself making embarrassing sounds, moans and sighs and little cries whenever the roughness of his thumb passed over that little, exposed something...but she couldn't stop herself. In truth, she didn't want to stop herself; she wanted him to be pleased by her, and the occasional sighs and sharp inhalations that escaped him were like bolts of heat that enhanced the things he was doing to her with his hands.

Desire made her bold; slowly, one hand ceased its exploration of the muscles of his back and slid around, down...

She hesitated, and then felt one of his hands covering her own, guiding it, leading it, showing her; there was something unbelievably erotic about the feeling of that hottest, hardest part of his hot, hard body, about the sensation of his fingers over hers, about the way she could not see his pleasure, only hear it, feel it - about the way his muscles tensed and his breath grew fast.

The movement of his fingers faltered for a moment; he reached up and brought her unoccupied hand down.

“Guide me, Kagome. Show me where to please you most.”

He felt her hand settle over his, very hesitant; he resumed his attentions at a pace that matched her stroking, their stroking...but he made sure his fingertips only ever grazed over the spots that gave her the most pleasure. He teased her, waiting, forcing her to do what he had told her or continue to whimper, unfulfilled.

It did not take very long. When she did finally move her own small fingers to lead his to a nub of swollen flesh, he rewarded her. He held it firmly and then squeezed a little, pulled back and forth and up and down until she was panting in his arms, her grip on him loose, her movements jerky.

He leaned closer to her, bent to whisper hotly in her ear.

“I am doing to you what you are doing to me, wife. Do you feel it? The burning, the blossoming; it is almost painful, isn't it?”

She nodded, pressing his hand tighter against her body; her hips wiggled this way and that, trying to find the perfect angle, the perfect pressure.

Then he kissed her, and as he stroked her tongue with his tongue she began to shudder wildly against him. Pleasure wracked her body in spasms, one after the other; in her wildest dreams, she had never imagined anything so intense. The fingernails of one hand dug into the back of his; she felt spurts of wetness against her other hand, and heard him let out a deep, guttural groan of pure release.

They stood still, leaning against each other, for a long moment. Then he lifted her, and walked with her across the room to the bed she had woken in.

She was content to laze in his arms, and then against the sheets; her eyes were shut beneath the blindfold, and she did not notice, at first, when he slipped her left hand, and then her right, into loops of silk that tightened softly against her skin.

Her hair tickled her breast when she tried to turn, and it was then she discovered how she was held; she couldn't reach down to brush her hair aside, could turn slightly on each side but could not move her hands.

While she twisted, he took her left foot and slid it into a loop like those that held her hands. She jerked instinctively against the restraint, and only succeeded in tightening it against her skin; in another moment, he had taken hold of her right ankle and bound that one too.

Exposed, vulnerable, she began to be afraid again, but he ran his hands over her skin and spoke in soft, rumbling tones.

“This is more of the pleasure I will teach you, beautiful Kagome. Do not fear me.”

His fingers began to drift across her skin once more. Blindfolded, restrained, she couldn't tell when he would touch her next, or where. She couldn't reach out and touch him; she couldn't direct his hands to where she wanted to be touched.

Then the fingers vanished, and she felt something soft brushing against her thighs...and then his hands, pushing them apart wider, stroking the smooth skin. His hands reached forward, opening her sex to his gaze, and she felt his hungry expression, though she could not see it. One finger, accompanied by a sharp sensation, slid down through her spread-apart wetness and sent little shocks of pleasure shooting across nerves that were still new to her.

She heard his voice come from somewhere near her knees.

“It is time for something new, wife. Do you feel vulnerable, bound thus and held open before me? Are you ashamed? Do not be ashamed, Kagome. You are beautiful, the most beautiful of all women, fairer than Goddesses and nymphs, fairer than Aphrodite herself...I will open the flower of your lust to me, the flower of your love.”

She felt his fingers pulling the soft flesh, opening her wider to his gaze – and then an incredible sensation, something rough and wet that was entirely unlike his fingers, so much better than his fingers. She hadn't been aware any such thing was possible; her back arched up off the bed. Her climax had made her sensitive, and the longer she was deprived of her sight the more intense the individual feelings became.

It took only moments before she was writhing, gasping, testing her restraints, trying to find something, anything to hold onto, to grasp; her legs wanted to close around him, holding him there; she wanted to reach down and tangle her fingers into the hair she could feel on her thighs -

She felt his sharp intake of breath, the air cool and sharp for an instant before the massaging heat returned, and realized then what it was he was actually doing to her. That it was his head between her legs, his breath sending those delicious cool sensations into her body...that it was his tongue lapping so perfectly – his tongue -

A high, keening wail escaped her, and then wound down to low heavy pants.

She felt his breath, cool and intense against the heat of her shivering nerves, and tried her best to understand when she heard him speaking: “Are you ready for more, wife?”

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A/N: Well...ahem. That's part one of two, folks. The rest later; I need to write something with plot now... :p  This is posted separately from Eros so that I don't have to raise the rating...I hate doing that in case YIM's are reading it.  Anyway...Part II coming shortly. Bwahahaha...

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