Bound by Corruption by BelovedStranger

Warm Embrace

AUTHOR'S NOTE: 

Word Count: 3,890

THE MILES FLEW by beneath them, and not once did the girl move to look where they were heading, didn’t separate from him even an inch. Sesshomaru didn’t mind. He relished this closeness, except for her infernal tears.

Her sorrow for the warlord maddened him, causing his vision to bleed crimson. He still couldn’t believe she’d chosen the ningen filth over him. Onigumo had murdered her family, her friends, and burned her world to the ground. And still, she’d gone with the vermin, helped him.

What matter of creature was she?

Or, did she despise him so much that Onigumo’s presence was preferable to his?

Sesshomaru gritted his teeth, for this was not the first time his mind had dwelled on such doubts. There were others. Miko were no different from the rest of the scourge of humanity—only worse. Believing their spiritual powers set them apart from the rest of the herd, their arrogance knew no bounds, their superiority nauseating. He knew this, had experienced their conceit. How many times had other miko, or monks, tried to purify him, believing his very existence was an abomination?

Humans were weak, sniveling creatures. Monk, miko. They were all the same.

Kagome was no different, her self-righteousness oozing off her like a noxious miasma from the moment he’d set eyes on her in the Inu no Kami’s shrine. Or so he’d thought.

If she truly was the hypocrite he believed her to be, why was she crying, mourning over Onigumo? Why had she helped him?

“You failed!” Her words echoed back at him the day she’d turned her back on him. “The ground is littered with the dead of your kills. For my vengeance.”

Sesshomaru remembered her disdain—for him.

“You wanted me to know the taste of revenge. Demanded it! Well, I’ve more than had a taste, and you want to know what I’ve learned? I haven’t the appetite for it, and one more meaningless death isn’t going to change that!”

Another memory.

Open your eyes, he recalled telling her. Watch them fall. I do this for you.

Then he remembered her response. “This isn’t for me. It’s for you, for your ends.”

And another.

“This isn’t what I want!”

How many times had she uttered such words to him?

During the long days without her, Sesshomaru had slowly come to understand that she truly didn’t wish for vengeance. Kagome exhibited no longing to strike against those who’d wronged her. There had been no appreciation for his killing of the bandit horde. She’d gone so far as to attempt to prevent the town’s people’s righteous retribution against Onigumo.

She’d tried to save a murder’s life. Sesshomaru still could not wrap his mind around it.

Just then, Kagome gave a choked hiccup. Without hesitation, he smoothed her hair at the back of her head in a gentle caress meant to console as she cried as though her heart were breaking.

He didn’t understand her.

“Why do you weep?”

The moment he uttered the question, he wished he had not. He had no desire to hear the answer he already knew. For Onigumo.

Her answer surprised him, however. “I’ve seen a side to people I wish I’d never glimpsed.” She shook her head in bewilderment. “I can’t understand how seemingly peaceful people can turn as they had. One moment, they’re smiling, laughing, going about their daily lives. Then they burned a man alive. There was no justice, only vengeance. When I think of them, seeing them in my mind, I don’t see humans. All I see are…”

“Youkai.”

Kagome made a choking sound as he finished her discriminatory sentence. “How you must loathe me,” a pained whisper. Yet, she pressed closer, her grip tightening on his clothing, as though fearful he meant to pull away and remove his comfort.

Perhaps he should. Instead, he cupped the back of her head, keeping her close. “The intolerance between ningen and youkai are commonplace. You,” and I, “are not unusual in that regard.”

Quietly, she confessed, “I’ve come to see the grievous error with certain accepted standards.”

Sesshomaru shook his head even though she could not see the gesture with her face hiding against his chest. “It would be foolhardy to hesitate when confronted by a youkai, or human criminals.”

“You are encouraging what you despise.”

Sesshomaru stiffened. Kagome continued, voice hushed. “You hate us miko, more so than other humans. I can tell. I’ve heard the distain in your voice on several occasions.”

Then she leaned back to stare up at him. He obliged her by tilting his chin down to meet her gaze, seeing that her eyes were filled with sorrow. “I didn’t understand—at first. But then the answer was so obvious, I was embarrassed not to have realized sooner. Especially after you practically told me that first day. You saved me, made a contract with me, because you wanted to corrupt a miko and see her fall.

“You hate us,” she iterated. “Because of our pride. For our particular prejudice against youkai.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand you. When I’ve finally come to see the error of my biased beliefs, towards criminals, towards youkai, you encourage me to stay the course. You want me to be prejudice. That doesn’t make sense.”

“You confuse blind trust with ignorance. Turn your back on a thief, he’ll leave you with nothing. With a murderer? You’ll get a knife in the back. A youkai? You’ll find yourself being digested in its stomach.”

Kagome nodded slowly. “Caution is prudent, but it should be tempered with an openminded patience. If we expect the worst in others, we’ll never see beyond our preconceptions.” Steel hardened her brown eyes. “And I refuse to believe there is no goodness in this world, and in others. Even the darkest soul may have a candle of light flickering inside them, just waiting to blaze brighter. If we expect the worst, they’ll prove it. And no wonder! When there’s no incentive to do better.”

Feeling his eyes widen over so slightly, it was only then that he saw what he’d been—purposefully, willfully—blind to: a being who sought the good in others, who believed decency could be found, perhaps even overcome, by even the most unscrupulous if they were given the chance.

Sesshomaru stared into the eyes of pure, untainted innocence.

Could he corrupt such goodness? The answer came readily: yes. More importantly, did he want to?

It was one thing to open her eyes to the darkness inside herself, to coax it out to play with him, but it was a completely different matter to corrupt a soul yet unstained by this unforgiving world.

He almost growled, irritated that she made him doubt. Again.

Every human he’d ever come across was like any daemon—perhaps worse. Selfish. Self-serving. There were no exceptions. Right?

Were there others like her? A traitorous thought.

She was no different than the rest of humanity!

Sesshomaru forced his thoughts away, focusing instead on flying as they neared their destination.

When they arrived, he descended from the skies, where they landed gently upon the grassy ground next to a large boulder, one of many that surrounded the heated waters of the natural hot spring. A forest surrounded the little oasis, cocooning them in their own little world.

“We have arrived, aijin. Look,” he encouraged, tilting away from her without releasing his hold.

Her head turned, her cheek pressed to his chest, but she did not react when she saw the heated pool. He prompted her. “I’m sure you wish to bathe.”

No response.

Sesshomaru curled a finger under her chin and forced her to look up at him. Her face was smooth, empty. He’d seen her like this before. Disinterested. Dissociative. As the silence stretched between them, she fell further into herself, insolating herself against the iniquity of the world.

Wordlessly, he reached for her, pulling the ties of her hakama. She didn’t stop him, the red fabric pooling around her feet. Knelling, Sesshomaru gently grasped one of her dainty ankles and lifted. He felt her hand on his shoulder, light pressure, seeking balance as he removed her sandal and white sock, before lowering her foot and doing the same with the other. Once her feet were bare, he stood tall before her.

He stared down at her, but she did not look up to meet his gaze. He was not discouraged. Calmly, he reached for her haori, releasing hidden ties. The white garment fell open, and with a gentle motion of his hands, the garment fell off her shoulders, down her arms, to fall with a soft sigh behind her. Her inner nagajuban met the same fate at her feet, leaving her in nothing but a breast binding and strip of cloth covering her most feminine of flesh.

When his fingers pulled on the ties he saw below one breast, she finally reacted. Kagome took a small step back and covered her arms across her ample chest. “What…are you doing?” Her voice was low, quivering.

“Assisting you.” Not allowing her to escape, he crowded her, but he didn’t try to remove the rest of her garments, respecting her obvious wish to retain a measure of modesty.

Instead, he picked her up with an arm under her knees and the other supporting her back and brought her to the edge of the pool, before lowering her slowly into its warmth.

Kagome didn’t fight him, but settled against the rocks at her back with a content sigh. Eyes closed, she did not see him remove his clothes, every last stitch. Then he was moving behind her. When he settled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, he felt her stiffen.

“Relax,” he breathed next to her ear. “My motives are pure. Allow me to hold you. To care for you.”

DISTRAUGHT, KAGOME HADN’T known where Sesshomaru was taking her. Hadn’t cared. She’d refused to leave the haven of his arms to look around. All she knew was that they’d travelled the skies, had felt the wind whip at her braid, pulling on her clothes. Yet Sesshomaru held her, kept her safe. Secure.

But the things he said confused her. Did he or did he not want her to learn from her previous misconceptions she’d been taught since birth? Only to realize he was a hypocrite—like her. He was prejudice against ningen, against miko, yet he judged her for being blindly bias. But when she sought to let go of such false teachings, he encouraged her to keep them.

He wanted her to feel superior. Towards other humans. Towards his kind. And she was coming to understand why. He didn’t want her to change. No, that was wrong. He didn’t want her to change for the better.

He wanted her to be just like him. But on his terms.

She fervently wished for the life she’d lived before she’d ever met this inugami. He was a curse. Yet, he was her only source of comfort in a world gone cruel.

The numbness that had been encroaching since they’d left the town rose to envelop her, and she had no defenses against the hollowing oppression.

Please, let it all be just one bad dream. Let her soon wake and see her obaasan and her sister, both alive and well. But this was no dream but painful reality.

Sitting in the soothing warmth of the hot spring, she felt some life return to her. She sniffed, tears threatening, only to feel Sesshomaru smooth his hand down her arm, a soothing brush. She had her arms wrapped around her chest, but his touch stopped at her elbow and retraced its path. He made no demands of her, only gave, and she soaked in the solace he provided, and tried not to cry at his simple kindness. His cruelty would have been easier to bear. She hadn’t expected…this.

Gentleness. Generosity.

Not from him. 

And he was naked. She could feel that part of him nestled against her lower back, felt it swell. Lengthen. Harden.

She made a soft sound of protest, to which she felt him rest his cheek against the top of her head, and his arms wrapped around the back of hers, cuddling her close. She was surrounded by his heat, scolding her hotter than the hot spring.

“Shh,” he murmured, a gentle rumble she felt emanate from his chest pressed against her back. “Calm yourself, aijin. I cannot help that part of me that responds to your nearness. Know that I will do nothing you do not wish.”

“Why not be considerate for once and allow me to bathe alone in privacy?” Was that her voice? Too high, too breathy.

“I am trying to be considerate if you’d only let me,” he told her, voice as soft as a caress.

Before she could respond, she felt wet fingers touch her face. She flinched when they brushed lightly over the wound on her temple, but she did not stop him when he began to wash away the dried blood.

Unable to help herself, she whispered, “You came back.”

“Were you waiting for me?”

And like that, the dam broke, freeing her completely from the numbness that had overtaken her. Memories converged. She’d left Onigumo, but before she’d reached the monk’s residence, she’d realized she should probably come with evidence to her claims. Then she’d remembered Onigumo’s sword. She’d turned, intending to quickly and quietly retrieve the hidden item without Onigumo being aware that she had returned prematurely. When she’d neared the decapitated hut they shared, she’d heard the shouting, saw the cloud of black smoke curling in the sky, and the screams of agony.

She’d come across a horrific scene. The town’s people, who’d been kind and welcoming, had morphed into an angry mob bent on murder. She’d been unable to stop them, had very nearly died trying.

Once again, Sesshomaru had saved her.

She didn’t even think to question his arrival, caught in a wave of gratitude, of pain and sorrow.

He’d come back, but the awful memories threatened to take away the ease she’d found with him. Desperate to stave off the stench of smoke and death, Kagome turned in Sesshomaru’s arms and pressed a clumsy kiss to the corner of his mouth.

A small sob escaped her.

Without a word, Sesshomaru cupped the back of her head with his left hand, repositioned her, before claiming her lips in a heated kiss, understanding what she needed from him without her having to utter a word. She responded with more eagerness than experience, opening her mouth for his invasion and boldly met his thrusting tongue with her own.

If her ardor surprised him, he didn’t question her or hesitate to take what she freely offered. It was the first time that she kissed him. She needed him, sought to use him to stave off the nightmares at the edge of her mind, waiting to devour her.

Kagome’s psyche was bruised and battered. She was hurting and needed comfort, but Sesshomaru’s possession was not gentle. He’d been soft and tender when she’d cried during their flight, was considerate to her need for modesty while undressing her, before placing her carefully in the hot spring, but in this, in passion, there was nothing but all-consuming need.

He did not hide his ardour from her, did not go slow and ease her into it. He took even as he gave, stamping her with his desire, forcing a fierce response from deep within her in return.

This was hunger, a craving. Lust.

He angled her, pressing the back of her head against his shoulder while he continued to plunder her mouth, like he couldn’t get enough of her taste.

She felt his hands on her breasts. They were suddenly there, cupping her. Squeezing. She didn’t stop him, even when she realized her binding was gone. Couldn’t stop him. A moan escaped her, only to be consumed by the intensity of his kiss. His answering growl made her shiver, but she was out of breath.

She cupped his chin, tried to shove him away. “Can’t breathe,” she whispered, staring up at him with heavy lids, intoxicated on desire.

Amber fire met her gaze. Whatever he saw in her own made him groan, low and deep. The sound went straight to her sex, pooling liquid heat. His lips found her jaw, nibbling gently at the same moment she felt him pinch her nipples. Kagome sucked in a harsh breath, back arching at the electric sensation. He did it again, pulled on them. She cried out. She heard him hiss when her derriere ground against his groin, felt him thrust his erection against her.  

Kagome writhed against his powerful chest as he pinched, pulled, and rolled her nipples. She’d never known how much pleasure could be had at such a simple touch. He manipulated her body like he had the right, like she was his. It was madness! She never wanted it to stop. She forgot why she had encouraged him, thought only of the need that built unbearably under his masterful touch.

When his hands moved to her hips, she moaned low in denial, needing him to touch her again. Instead of heeding her wordless entreaty, he lifted her, turning her, and she willingly straddled his hips.

She was suddenly staring up into Sesshomaru eyes, the amber hue deepening to molten gold. He wanted her. She needed him. His erection pulsed between them, drawing her attention. The water was clear, giving her an unmitigated view of that part of him. Unbidden, a thought emerged. He was larger here than Onigumo had been; much larger.

Curiosity overcame her, and she reached for him, wrapping her hand around his shaft. He was thick. Her fingers couldn’t even wrap around him completely.

At her touch, he hissed.

Kagome flinched and quickly released him. “I’m sorry—”

“Do not stop, aijin.” A demand. A plea. Sesshomaru forced her to grasp him once more, making her squeeze him tighter. “Touch me. Feel me. Like this.”

He showed her how to please him, bringing her palm up his shaft to the tip before dragging her hand back down, only to repeat the smooth glide again and again. Once he was sure she understood the motion, he released her, allowing her control. At first, she felt unsure, clumsy, but the louder he groaned, the bolder she became.

“You’re killing me.” A growl.

Her breath hitched, pulse racing. “Is that bad?”

“Yes. No. Do not stop!”

Their eyes locked. His alabaster face was flushed, lips parted on panting breathes, revealing a hint of fang. He was a dangerous inuyoukai, and he was under her power. The thought was electrifying, heady. She didn’t break eye contact as she pleasured him, pumping him. When she reached the tip, she squeezed harder. Testing.

Sesshomaru’s shoulders bunched before he shuddered, the force of it shaking her. His reaction did strange things to her heartbeat.

“Am I hurting you?” she whispered.

“Yes, but not in the way you are thinking.”

She did it again. Sesshomaru snarled. She grinned.

Then she felt his hand graze her inner thigh, her only warning. He cupped her, the wet cloth of her undergarments no deterrent. She felt his touch like a blazing torch. Kagome cried out and lost her rhythm.

Even as he rubbed her most secret place, he wrapped his hand around hers, forcing her to continue stroking him, following the pace of his fingers against her folds. Making her want that part of him to rub against that part of her instead. Before she realized what she was doing, she was moving her hips, trying to rub against his wicked fingers harder. Faster.

But Sesshomaru kept the same, unhurried pace. Ramping up her desire, enflaming her further. Unbearably.

Abruptly, his fingers were moving her underwear aside, and she felt him. Skin on skin, fingertips caressing where no man had touched before. His touch was shocking, her breath stuttering from her chest. Then he found an excruciatingly pleasurable spot at the nub of her sex.

Kagome cried out, hips bucking. Trying to get away, trying to get closer. And all the while, he forced her hand up and down, up and down. Feeling him, as he was feeling her.

Her cries mixed with his growls.

She was on the cusp of something, on edge of a precipice. She needed, needed—

Her body was taut as a bowstring, when suddenly, Sesshomaru stopped and removed his hand.

Kagome shook her head in denial, crying out in despair, in unbearable want. But before she could demand more, he had ahold of her thighs. He was lifting her, positioning her, until she felt the head of his shaft press against her opening.

Kagome froze.

What was she doing?

Reality came crashing back as fear set in.

He’s too big!

Before Sesshomaru could make them one, Kagome wiggled, struggling against him, breaking the alignment of their sexes. “No! Wait, Sesshomaru,” she cried frantically, nails digging into his shoulders.

Pleasure fled in the face of her fear, of his size, of the unknown. They couldn’t do this! She was a miko, subjugated to duty. It was Kikyo who was expected to marry. As the eldest, it was her sister who could carry on the family line, while Kagome was meant to stay pure, chaste.

Her duty was to others. She had not the luxury to live for herself, to make selfish choices.

 Worse, she consorted with a daemon. 

Mortified by her own boldness killed the last vestige of her desire. She did the only thing she could think to do. She pushed at his shoulders, banged her fists against his chest, and tried to wiggle away.

“Calm yourself, Kagome,” Sesshomaru commanded.

His arms went around her, holding her down, pressing his shaft between their bodies. He was still hard, an imposing presence. With her legs spread, her chest bare, she felt vulnerable. She crossed her arms over her chest, and tried to sink further into the water. Only to glide her slick folds against the base of his imposing shaft. Her nerves sizzled at the provocative contact.

Her struggles intensified, and surprisingly, she was free.

Kagome wasted no time. She catapulted from the water. Ignoring the water dripping down her body, she lunged for her clothes, not bothering to search for her breast binding.

Sesshomaru reached her first. With narrowed eyes, he appeared before her, capturing her in his arms.

“Let go, let go!” She struggled against him.

“I will not force you,” he growled, the sound fearsome and deadly, stopping her struggles instantly. She looked up at him with wild, fear-filled eyes.

He stared hard into her wide-eyes for an instant, before sighing. He bent down and picked up her nagajuban. “Here. Clothe yourself and be calm.”

They dressed in silence. It was awkward, for her at least. Embarrassed, she couldn’t look at him once she was dressed. She felt strange without her breast binding. Too free. The sensation intensified her mortification, tempting her to cross her arms over her chest, but that would only bring further attention to herself and her predicament.

Sesshomaru broke the silence, saying fatefully, “Do you still wish to find your sister?”