Bound by Corruption by BelovedStranger

A Taste of Passion

AUTHOR'S NOTE: 

Word Count: 2,852

KAGOME COULDN’T SEE the ground as she fell.

A blessing or a curse?

Would she prefer to watch the ground hurdling closer or remain oblivious before she splattered in a broken heap? Either way, death awaited her. Any second. Each one more precious than the last, each stretching on to eternity, yet speeding by far too quickly. Watching death’s approach could have been worse, but this not knowing when it would claim her held Kagome in frightful suspense.

Such morbid thoughts strung through her mind in a single second, or two, when she impacted. With an oomph, she smacked into something unwieldy, yet softer than dirt. And warmth. Arms held her securely before shifting her, one supporting beneath her knees, the other going around her back. Kagome found herself cradled against a wide, solid chest. A heady scent infiltrated her nose. Intoxicating, one she recognized. A deep, masculine voice murmured through her mind, soothing and gentle.

I have you, aijin.

Her eyes flashed open, staring up at her savior. Her tormentor. “Sesshomaru.”

He continued to speak to her telepathically. Intimately. You are safe. I would never allow any harm to come to you.

Then, he nuzzled his nose against her cheek, and Kagome was foolish enough to take comfort in his tenderness. Her heart was beating too fast, fear drying her mouth at how close to death she’d come. How helpless she’d felt, unable to do anything to prevent it.

You called to me. Good girl.

Kagome blinked, then blinked again, only to cringe. She had been able to do one thing, the only thing she could think of, and that was to call the inugami to her side to do the saving for her.

You heard me, she said, tentatively using their telepathic link.

Whenever you are in need, I will come.

But Kagome knew it for the lie it was. They had a month together. Less even. Then she’d never see this inugami again. Why did that thought trouble her?

Kagome stared into amber fire from inches away. Sesshomaru regarded her with the softest expression she’d ever seen from him, as though he truly cared. But he didn’t, right? Why was she doubting his feelings for her when his intentions were oh so clear? Attraction sparked between them, different this time. Gentler. And she found herself reacting to it, relaxing against him.

Will you? Her vulnerability manifested, and like a child, she reached for the comfort she sensed radiating from this powerful figure before her. He was strong. He would protect her.

But he wasn’t safe.

We are connected, you and I, bonded together closer than any conventional ties.

His words should horrify her—and they did, but there was comfort in them, too. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so alone. Her home was gone, the villagers either dead or scattered, and her obaasan—

Then there was Kikyo; missing.

Loneliness was an insidious disease, metastasizing slowly yet inexorably, seeking to consume her heart. Kagome had never been alone before, and she found herself clinging to this inugami, for a sense of security that she knew was insubstantial as smoke.

His head was descending. Ensnared by the softness in his eyes and the lies she told herself, Kagome tilted her head back in silent encouragement. The claiming was unlike what she remembered. It was no less consuming, but it was tender. When his tongue stroked along the seam of her mouth, she opened to him. Her response was shy but sure—until she tasted iron.

Blood?

Yes, aijin. Taste your revenge.

Kagome jerked back and saw the crimson splattered across the left side of his face, and speckled across his mouth. Lips she’d kissed. Willingly, eagerly. Lips wet with another person’s blood. As the horror of that realization began to settle in, Sesshomaru didn’t allow her to escape by following her retreat. Swooping down, he recaptured her mouth, kissing her harder. Deeper.

The arms around her tightened, bringing her closer. A cage. Combating with the inugami’s unique scent was the stench of death, reawakening flashes of memory, a bombardment of unrelenting nightmares that were all too real. Desperate, Kagome reached up blindly and yanked on Sesshomaru’s hair. The silken strands nearly slipped through her fingers, so soft were they.

An animalistic growl startled her. Feeling the vibration rumble from Sesshomaru’s chest, she knew it came from him. A sound that should have sent her survival instincts screaming instead caused an electric shock through her whole body, where it centered between her thighs. Causing an ache, an emptiness she did not understand.

Confused by her response, Kagome gasped for air when Sesshomaru reared his head back after her relentless pulling on his tresses. She thought he would be angry, but the naked and raw lust sparking from his gaze scorched her. The burn in her core intensified.

What’s happening to me?!

Only when Sesshomaru responded did she realize she’d had the thought so strong, she’d projected it to him.

“Heat. Desire.” His voice was a sinful rasp, rough and deep. It sent shivers down her spine. Holding her as tight as he was, he felt her response. “You want me. You can’t deny it, aijin. And I—” a rough exhalation, “—want you. Here. Now.”

He tried to kiss her again, but she averted her face. Her rejection did not dissuade him as his hot lips trailed liquid fire down her neck. His mouth opened, licking her, nipping at her jaw.

Kagome gasped, the secret place between her thighs twitching. A moan escaped her when he did it again. “I don’t want you!” Passion thickened her voice.

“You lie.” Sharp teeth bit at the lobe of her ear, earning him another gasp of delight. “I can scent your need. Let me ease you.”

She wasn’t completely sure what he meant by that, but she understood enough. Kagome jerking her head side-to-side and shoved against his face. “Stop this at once! I am not doing this with you!”

“Aijin—”

“Have you forgotten? We’re surrounded by the men you murdered! You’re covered in their blood. And you think I want you to touch me?!” The very thought was ludicrous!

Her body damned her.

“I know you do,” he asserted with a sharp glare. “You forget. I can smell how wet you are. Or will another lie fall from your deceptive lips? Do so,” he warned, “and I shall prove otherwise.”

Suddenly, Sesshomaru was shoving her against the trunk of the tree she’d fallen from and spread her thighs with a press of his knee. With a hand now free, he cupped her intimately without preamble. Kagome stiffened, feeling the heat of his palm against that place. The burn intensified, and she was hard pressed to prevent a helpless moan. She bit her bottom lip painfully to stop herself from making even the smallest sound.

He crowded her, hot breath whispering in her ear. “Tell me you feel nothing.” His voice was hard, cruel, but his touch was gentle as he stroked his fingers the barest inch, releasing the tortured gasp she’d tried to hide. “Tell me you are not dripping wet right now. Tell me, and I will touch you without any clothing separating my hand from your cunt.”

Kagome gasped, face burning. In embarrassment, in hunger.

“You dare speak to me with such…such vulgarity?!” She should be scandalized, infuriated, and yet, her body was aflame. The desire to rub against his palm was strong. Humiliation battled with the craving to surrender.

“Tell me. Lie to me.” He pressed his palm against her firmly.

Back arching, fingers clenched around his muscular shoulders, Kagome shrieked as pleasure shot through her. “Alright! Fine, I was lying!”

Sesshomaru stilled. “You wish for me to stop?”

No. “Yes!”

“A lie.” A pleased purr against her throat caused her to tremble.

“No, wait! I really mean it! I don’t want this. Not here. Not right now!”

“The dead bother you.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.” And yet, a part of her wanted him anyway. The way he made her body sing was incredible, his power over her frightening.

When he removed his hand, she was both grateful and disappointed. The latter annoyed her.

Sesshomaru kissed her cheek. “One day soon, it won’t matter. On that day, you will welcome me after we’ve slaughtered dozens. Painted in the blood of our fallen, you’ll welcome me. Eagerly.”

Leaning back, he impaled her with his gaze, his eyes issuing a dark promise, while Kagome could feel her own widening, appalled at the picture he painted with such vivid detail. He couldn’t be serious? But she feared he was. Before she could process that implication, he released her and gave her space.

“Come. Your vengeance is not yet complete.” Then he was walking away, towards the bandits’ helpless leader.

The path was now dark, dusk having fallen. When Kagome turned towards the man, she was certain Onigumo hadn’t seen their shameful intimacy. And yet, when she approached him, her face burned. She shouldn’t care what this man thought of her. He was the worst humanity had to offer, yet her feelings of mortification, of shame, did not diminish.

THE ONNA WAS an enigma, Sesshomaru thought.

She’d shown more ruthlessness when he’d killed the despoiler back at the lone hut than she had now, with her enemies lying scattered at her feet. But that wasn’t exactly true, he realized, frowning.

He recalled the expression she’d worn earlier that afternoon and was forced to admit that he hadn’t detected even a hint of satisfaction at the ningen’s death. He’d seen conflict, grief over the unknown woman’s passing. Even anger directed at the man, but no true malice.

And now, the onna reeked of regret. Such a response confounded him. Was she not brimming with unquenched wrath? Did she not care for the loss of her village? The death of her grandmother? Had he been mistaken? No, he’d witness true anguish reflected in her tormented eyes, even anger. Why then did she not yearn for revenge?

Her lack of vengeance angered him. Why he felt so strongly, he refused to contemplate. Such thoughts led to doubts, and Sesshomaru was above reproach. Only his opinion of himself mattered, and he refused to let some insignificant miko make him question his actions and choices.

Because, if he was wrong, and she was pure… No!

“So, you’ve returned. I thought perhaps you had abandoned me.”

Sesshomaru raised his brow at Onigumo’s nerve. Had the blow to the back of the ningen’s head damaged his faculties? Ningen were weak. A knock on the head could so easily incapacitate them, permanently. “We have unfinished business.”

“Come to kill me, daemon?” Onigumo gazed around Sesshomaru, the moonlight revealing his fallen men. “I should have known you were no man upon first sight. Your strangeness sets you apart. That hair or yours, like an old man’s, and those ridiculous markings.” Onigumo scoffed.

Sesshomaru’s silver brow ticked at the ningen’s audacious daring. Unbeknownst to this vermin, Sesshomaru’s tresses and daemon markings were outward symbols of his proud lineage, passed down from his great and terrible father.

Onigumo didn’t wait for a reply, answering himself. “No, it is not my death you seek—at least not yet, or I would have been the first to die. What do you want from me?”

Before Sesshomaru could speak, the onna took a small step forward, speaking quickly. “We just have a few questions to ask you.”

Sesshomaru frowned at her interference.

“‘Just a few questions’ do not warrant my injury and the death of my men.” Pain tightened his voice, while sweat beaded Onigumo’s brow on a face far too pale. Despite the agony he was surely experiencing, his mind was surprisingly sharp, as was his perusal. Dark eyes travelled up and down the onna. “A human travelling with a daemon. How intriguing.”

“Last eve, you destroyed this miko’s village, slaughtering her loved ones. Blood is answered in blood this day.” Sesshomaru smirked down at the helpless man, a direct taunt for the human’s earlier comments towards his regal person.

“A miko?” Onigumo regarded the onna with new interest before chuckling. Or tried to. The sound was more a groan of pain. “Bloodthirsty little thing, aren’t you?”

The onna turned a swift glare towards Sesshomaru, to which he ignored. No doubt, she hadn’t wished for her occupation to be revealed. In some ways, he understood her far too easily. Miko were seen as beckons of light, and with Sesshomaru’s revelation, that bright light was now stained in blood, proclaiming to this warlord that they weren’t so different. Miko. Bandit. Each had a heart as black as any youkais’.

A shadow of his earlier doubts doused Sesshomaru’s amusement towards Kagome’s fall from public perception. It didn’t matter to him that her fall had been witnessed by one soon to be claimed by death. Soon, everyone would see her for who she truly was, and Sesshomaru reused to allow a moment’s uncertainty to corrupt his pursuits.

Unaware of Sesshomaru’s internal war, Onigumo boldness continued. “Fascinating choice in travelling companion, miko. How did that come about?” Had he no fear? Or a death wish?

“The only questions that will be answered are mine. Do answer with care. Your responses will greatly determine how you are to be treated beyond this point.” Sesshomaru spoke with authority, seeking to dominate over the two ningen who foolishly lacked the proper difference towards his superiority.

“Tis to be torture before death? I have a better idea. An exchange. I give you the information you seek and you allow me my life.” Onigumo spoke with such unconcern, Sesshomaru was once again contemplating the damage the human had taken to the back of his skull.

“You are in no position to bargain, human.” To enforce his point, Sesshomaru nudged the warlord’s shattered knee none too gently.

The onna cringed at Onigumo’s agonized howl.

“Sesshomaru, please. Was that really necessary—” Kagome began in a tortured whisper.

“Silence, miko.”

Onigumo stared up at the onna through painfilled eyes. “Miko, why do you stand by and allow this beast such free reign? Or has he spoken false and you are of the dark order?”

Her denial was swift and loud. “I am no dark miko!”

“Forgive me,” he gasped, “but I currently fail to see the difference.”

Kagome looked away from the warlord, wreaking of guilt and shame. Her response angered Sesshomaru.

Onigumo was a marauder. Her grandmother was dead—because of him. Her village was burned to the ground—because of him. She should be happy that Onigumo suffered, ecstatic that vengeance was hers. Why did she refuse to take it?

“You’re wrong.” A tortured whisper. “I want only to find my sister.” Determination blazed in her eyes as she returned her gaze to the injured man. “Before you came to my village, you’d attacked another town my sister had been visiting. Survivors say you took captives. Was one of them a miko? She would have been dressed in our traditional attire, and her resemblance to me is strong.”

Sesshomaru saw the calculated gleam spark in Onigumo’s eyes. And something more. Sesshomaru saw a glimmer of male interest towards the onna.

The miko was his.

Before the ningen could speak, Sesshomaru warned, “Answers only. No propositions.”

The human shot him a spiteful glare, but he wisely heeded him. Pity.

“No. Had there been a miko in the village, I would have been made aware.”

“You’re lying!” Kagome yelled. “She was there! Where is she? What have you done with her?” In her agitation, she took a step towards Onigumo.

“Ah, so you are to have a hand in my torture, miko?”

Kagome flinched back. “No! I—I only want the truth.”

Sesshomaru had scented the truth on the bandit, but he did not inform the miko. Not when Onigumo needed to be shown his place, and punished for looking at what was his with primal appreciation. Cracking his knuckles, he flicked his wrist. His claws emanated a glowing green light and two darts shot outwards, embedding into Onigumo’s right shoulder, burning through armor and cloth into flesh. His screams of agony rang through the night, pleasing the darkness Sesshomaru harbored inside himself.

“Wrong answer,” Sesshomaru intoned, staring down at the squirming warlord with outward dispassion.  

“Goddammit, I’m telling the truth! There was no miko in that village!”

“Sesshomaru…what…what did you do?” She was eyeing the melted armour. The scent of burnt flesh was strong in the air.

“Acidic poison.” He decided to entertain her question. “Worry not, aijin. The concentration was greatly muted. He will not die.”

Then Sesshomaru pointed a single finger at the bandit’s injured leg, and one sliver of light shot through Onigumo’s thigh, flesh sizzling.

“For god’s sake, stop! I’m cooperating! I never saw a priestess. If she were dressed in traditional attire as this miko assures, I would have been informed! Perhaps she fled in fear, abandoning her home and family? Or maybe, she hadn’t been in that village to begin with. All I know is that she. Was. Not. Present.”