Increase Text Size Decrease Text Size Divider Print This Chapter Divider

True Stripes by wonderbug

True Stripes

Disclaimer: Surely by now you know - I don’t own jack.

WARNINGS: Oh, I dunno…indecent use of candy? :3

Author’s note: In the (rather belated) spirit of Christmas, I’ve written a naughty crackfic for you guys, following Prompt #1 – Candy Canes in SunsetMiko’s December 2013 Challenge. This one takes place entirely in modern Japan but isn’t what I’d consider an AU. But whatever. It’s not like where the action takes place matters all that much, amirite? ;)

Please let me know what you think! :D

True Stripes

“Here! One last stop,” Kagome said, gripping his hand in mitten-covered fingers as she tugged him toward yet another storefront, her blue eyes glittering as she glanced back at him over her shoulder, smiling sweetly in supplication. “I promise, okay?”

Sesshoumaru sighed.

With that sound of male resignation as old as time—or at least, he amended, as old as the invention of ‘shopping trips’—he allowed her to lead him into the next merchant’s lair, steeling himself as they crossed the threshold, as though in preparation for battle. The cloying smell of sweets assaulted his sensitive nose as soon as they entered, shiny wrappers and gleaming glass display counters nearly blinding him with their too-bright glare.

The store was a Western-style candy shop, one of only a few in downtown Tokyo. Though rather upscale, with all the glass and steel and mahogany shelves, Sesshoumaru found the place tacky and oppressive, though that last part could arguably be attributed to his current mood, having spent the past three hours following the girl around as she flitted from store to store, giggling and beaming, and stringing his arms with shopping bags like the demon Lord of the West was nothing more than a mere beast of burden. It rankled his pride, yet he permitted it all the same.

He must truly be going soft in his…prime.

Sighing again, he shifted the bags on his arm into what he hoped was a more dignified position, missing the warmth of her fingers as she released him abruptly in her bright-eyed eagerness to explore. Temporarily abandoned, Sesshoumaru let his gaze wander to the glass counter on his left, within which a variety of truffles and chocolate-covered fruits and nuts were assembled on golden trays.

He had heard before that females had a penchant for chocolate—that it even acted on them as an aphrodisiac of sorts. Sesshoumaru couldn’t attest to its effects on women, but as his eyes lingered on a row of chocolate-dipped strawberries, as he imagined how Kagome’s pink lips would look curved around the tip of the fruit, its red juice dribbling down from the corner of her mouth as she bit into it, he could certainly feel his own blood stirring in response.

“Can I help you, sir?”

Sesshoumaru glanced up to find the shopkeeper behind the counter regarding him in polite expectation. He was an older man, somewhere past middle-age, sporting a red bow-tie above his crisp white apron, with narrow spectacles glinting before his kindly brown eyes.

“No,” the daiyoukai answered shortly, his own honey-hued gaze slanting briefly toward the miko in the far corner of the shop. “I am merely waiting.”

“So I see,” the merchant responded pleasantly, having followed Sesshoumaru’s line of sight. “Your daughter is a lovely young lady. If I may be so bold as to make a suggestion—”

“She’s not my daughter,” the overtaxed demon lord interrupted tersely, his lips drawing into a thin line.

Presumptuous, short-sighted mortals. Just because his hair was silver in color, they automatically assumed he was aged. Trust humans to rely primarily on one sense, and then still do a poor job of using it. Did he walk with a cane? Were there wrinkles marring his admittedly flawless features? Sesshoumaru thought not.

Old—he scowled darkly at the idea, insulted. He had not yet seen even his eighth century.

“Ah,” the man said with a soft, apologetic smile, trying again: “Your granddaughter?”

Sesshoumaru glared, acid simmering beneath the beds of his lengthening claws. It had been many years since he’d last taught a human his proper place. Perhaps it was time to become reacquainted with the experience…

“Sesshoumaru!” a ringing voice called suddenly from the back of the store. “Can you help me with something?”

The daiyoukai turned, casting one last withering look at the still-smiling shopkeeper as he made his way over to Kagome. Curbing the man’s insolence, it seemed, would have to wait.

He found her standing before a wall of glass dispensers, which were crammed almost to bursting with an assortment of colorful hard candies and other chocolate-coated treats. Other adults loitered nearby with their children, but only Kagome and the young ones were staring at the candy in such simple, open joy. Looking at her expression, at her sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks, at the way her heavy coat and scarf swallowed her slender form, she almost seemed a child herself, innocent and pure—and to think, only moments ago he’d been entertaining such lurid thoughts about her sweet, supple little mouth...

Faintly, Sesshoumaru shook his head. Perhaps he was a twisted old devil, after all.

Kagome looked up at him then, brushing a silky lock of hair from her cheek as she held out a small plastic bag. “Would you mind holding this for me while I fill it up?”

Sesshoumaru didn’t mind. With the handles of the shopping bags nestled in the bends of his elbows, he angled his forearms slightly upward, holding the tiny bag aloft as Kagome opened a little glass door in the bottom of the dispenser which allowed the sweets to flow in. After this was done, she secured the top of the bag with a bit of gold ribbon and handed him another. They continued to repeat this process, each time collecting a different variety of candy, until the small basket on Kagome’s arm was filled almost to the brim.

“Let’s see,” she muttered to herself, sifting through the bags in contemplation. “Chocolate-covered almonds and spearmints for Mama. Lemon drops and chocolate-covered raisins for Jii-chan”—she paused, holding up a finger—“for his digestion! Aaand…gummy worms and malted milk-balls for Souta-chan—Yep, that should do it!” she finished, glancing back at the array of dispensers as if to make absolutely certain. “Ready to go?”

The daiyoukai nodded, only too eager to depart this place, with its saccharine sweetness and overly inquisitive staff. He turned, only his youkai reflexes sparing him from colliding with the girl as she froze in place, her eyes flaring wide with wonder as she stared at a table nearby, which was piled high with boxes and buckets of Christmas candy.

“Wow,” she murmured as she approached one such tin bucket, which was stuffed with large red-and-white striped candies wrought in the shape of canes. “Those are the biggest ones I’ve ever seen!”

Having never been overly fond of sweets himself, Sesshoumaru could hardly understand her enthusiasm. She separated one candy cane from the throng and marveled at it in her hands with a most peculiar blend of reverence and lust before darting a glance at him.

“I’m buying this for you,” she declared, slipping the enormous stick of candy into her basket.

“I don’t need it,” Sesshoumaru said flatly. Nor did he particularly want it, either.

“Well, I’m buying it all the same.”

And that, apparently, was that. The bespectacled shopkeeper rang up Kagome’s purchases at the counter while Sesshoumaru loomed behind her in open menace. As her business concluded and he moved to follow her out the door, he glimpsed movement out of the corner of his eye, the merchant extending a gilt-wrapped parcel toward him with a small conspiratorial smile.

“For your pretty young mistress,” he said, winking. “And yourself, of course.”

Mistress? Sesshoumaru opened his mouth to correct the old fool once and for all before the realization of what he was about to admit had him swallowing the words back down again. Kagome wasn’t his mistress, his wife, or even his lover. She was merely his companion, and somehow that knowledge displeased him even more than the shopkeeper’s mistaken supposition. So he simply accepted what he deemed to be the man’s desperate offering of appeasement with a short “Hn” and made haste to put this accursed shop behind him.

Outside, Kagome stood with her face lifted toward the snowing sky, tiny white flakes clinging to her lashes and her dark hair. For such a warm-hearted girl, she seemed strangely fond of cold things, Sesshoumaru thought, like winter and moonlight and him.

Seeing his signal, his driver pulled up to the curb, and they climbed into the back of the car with all her purchased gifts in tow. During their return trip to the Higurashi shrine, Kagome struck up an amiable, mostly one-sided conversation about Christmas presents and other Western traditions, to which Sesshoumaru responded with the occasional nod or noncommittal utterance. Even for him, this was a glaring lack of participation, but the daiyoukai could not bring himself to do much better. He was too distracted by his own thoughts back in the shop and by her closeness here and now. He could feel the heat of her body through the small gap of air that separated them, detect the light floral scent of her hair and her skin, the smell of the cherry balm she applied to her lips.

And now he was thinking about her mouth again, staring at her mouth again, watching as her full lips quirked upward with a wry twist.

“Really? Is that so...”

“Hm?” Sesshoumaru glanced up to find her looking at him with bemused, yet slightly narrowed eyes.

“I just asked you if you thought it’d be a good idea for me to parade around naked singing Christmas carols, and you nodded ‘yes,’” she huffed, her lips twitching in a smile despite her tone of irritation. “You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve said, have you?”

“No,” Sesshoumaru admitted in a low voice, the corner of his mouth rising faintly, “I would never knowingly approve of carol singing.”

“Ugh!” Kagome exclaimed, shaking her head as she doubled-over with laughter. “You’re impossible!”

They arrived at the shrine a few minutes later, Sesshoumaru helping Kagome to unload all her precious cargo and carry it inside the house. Normally, the Higurashi dwelling was abuzz with activity—with her brother Souta and his high school friends playing loud violent video games in the den, or with Kagome’s university acquaintances lounging about on the living room couch laughing and chatting, all while Mrs. Higurashi cooked in the kitchen and carried on conversation through the open bar and while Kagome’s old monk of a grandfather told long-winded stories about ghosts and demons and surreptitiously attempted to exorcise Sesshoumaru with his feeble sutras or noisome sticks of incense.

However, as they entered now, an uncharacteristic silence met his ears. Apart from the two of them, it appeared that no one else was currently at home. Ridiculous as it was, the daiyoukai felt a curious prickle of unease at the thought.

“Where is the rest of your family?” he found himself inquiring.

“Well, Jii-chan’s participating in a go tournament, Mama’s out shopping, and I think Souta said something about playing racquetball, so I don’t think anyone will be back for the rest of the afternoon at least,” Kagome replied as she led him to the living room, where a large artificial Christmas tree loomed in one corner, lopsided with age and decorated with a garish mix of glass and plastic ornaments, tiny icicle lights, and strings of red wooden beads. Kagome paused before the low coffee table, setting down the bags in her hands as she fixed him with a look that he would have considered coy, had it come from anyone else. “Why, does it bother you? I was kind of hoping you’d stay for a while and help me take care of these gifts since everyone else is out of the house for a change.”

Never one to back down from a challenge, perceived or otherwise, Sesshoumaru said simply, “I’ll stay.”

“Great!” Kagome responded brightly, a smile spreading across her face as she headed for the stairs. “I’ll be back down in a bit—just going to change out of these heavy clothes.”

The idea of her stripping down only a few feet above him did nothing to settle the daiyoukai’s thoughts, so he busied himself by going outside to tell the driver he’d call for him to come back later and then returning inside to pace about the living room like a caged beast. He didn’t have any upper layers of his own he wished to shed, sporting only a thin deep-necked sweater and an open collared dress shirt underneath—a clothing ensemble Kagome had once referred to as a ‘playboy look’, whatever that meant. He’d thought that after finally catching up to her time, he would be able to understand her strange turns of phrase, but that had apparently been wishful thinking.

At the sound of descending footsteps, the daiyoukai turned, arching a silver brow at Kagome’s change in attire, which seemed entirely inappropriate for the winter season. She had clothed herself in a pair of blue cloth shorts and a red short-sleeved shirt whose neckline plunged in a U-shape, revealing a large portion of her upper chest. With her hair swept up in a loose tail, her pale slender neck was likewise exposed, and he caught himself staring once again.

“Sorry I took so long,” she said a little breathlessly as she hit the landing, her cheeks flushed as if she had just finished sprinting. “I had to find where Mama’d stashed these.”

Sesshoumaru glanced down to see her clutching what appeared to be a mass of oversized woolen socks. The topmost sock—a faded green monstrosity—bore her name in fraying crimson thread.

“Christmas stockings,” she explained, in answer to his unspoken question. “There’s one for each member of the family. And,” she continued sheepishly, her pretty blush deepening as she withdrew a particularly lumpy one from the back of the pile, “Mama helped me make one for you, too.”

Wordlessly, he accepted the misshapen hand-knit stocking, inspecting it in his hands. It was made of dark blue yarn, the characters of his name embroidered crookedly down the length of it in silver thread, along with a scattering of wobbly crescent moons.

It had been a long time since he’d received a gift like this—not since Rin was alive. Slowly he looked down at her, saw her peeking up at him through her messy bangs, waiting for his reaction.

“I like it,” he said at last, holding her gaze. “Thank you, Kagome.”

She flashed him a radiant smile before striding past him toward the fireplace. “Well then, let’s hang them up, shall we?”

Following her over, he helped her secure the six stockings (there was one for that overfed feline, Buyo, as well) to the mantelpiece above the hearth. This task complete, she turned away from him, bending low over the coffee table to rifle through the cluster of shopping bags.

Sesshoumaru’s eyes widened a fraction as he caught more than a glimpse of her hind quarters as she did so, her shorts riding up dangerously high, baring the smooth, shapely curve of her ass. Was the girl even wearing any undergarments beneath that flimsy scrap of blue cloth?

“Ah, here it is,” she said in triumph, extracting the bag from the candy shop.

The daiyoukai watched as she went down the line, filling each stocking with its respective bags of treats before pausing in front of the one to the left of hers. With a small self-satisfied grin, she slipped the giant candy cane into Sesshoumaru’s dark blue sock. The ridiculous striped stick hung out several inches above the top, causing his stocking to droop in a pathetic slouch.

“What’s this?” he sighed wearily, curling a finger beneath the hook of the cane and lifting it partway out.

“Stocking stuffer,” Kagome supplied helpfully. “It’s supposed to be a surprise, but there’s no hiding that enormous thing.”

“Kagome,” he continued in growing exasperation, “I told you I don’t need this.”

“Oh, come on,” she wheedled, rocking back on her heels. “Have you ever even tried one before?”

“I don’t like such sugary foods,” he said bluntly.

“Fine, fine,” Kagome relented with a huff, removing the candy cane from his stocking and brandishing the straight end at him. “We’ll just see how jealous you get when I eat this right in front of you!”

Sesshoumaru scoffed. Not likely.

Tossing the candy cane onto the couch, Kagome retrieved a few rolls of wrapping paper and a stack of boxes from a nearby closet and set them down next to the coffee table. She and Sesshoumaru spent the next half hour removing her purchases from the shopping bags and sorting them into groups for each family member and a few of her closest friends. They removed the price-tags and found suitable boxes to store the gifts, and then the true work began.

“Okay,” Kagome said, rolling out a large sheet of wrapping paper over the surface of the table and placing her mother’s first box on top, “first you have to measure and make sure that the piece of paper you cut off is going to be large enough to cover the box—but not too large, or you’ll just have to trim it down later, and that wastes paper so…” she trailed off, her tongue between her teeth as she carefully adjusted the box before separating part of the sheet from the rest of the roll with a pair of scissors.

On the tatami mat across from her, Sesshoumaru mimicked her actions with another roll and box, slicing off a section of paper with the fine point of a claw. He then secured the two halves of the sheet across the back of the box using a bit of tape, as she did.

“Great,” Kagome resumed with a nod. “Now the next part is trickier…you have to fold in the side edges of the paper like this, then fold up the bottom point and fold down the top point above it, like so.” Sesshoumaru watched as she manipulated the paper at one open end of the box, folding it down until the top flap fit over the bottom one like a closed envelope. “Don’t worry if your first one’s a little rough; it’ll get easier with practice.”

Before she’d even finished the second end of her box, Sesshoumaru had completed both of his. Spying his perfectly wrapped package, Kagome blinked in surprise, leaning over the table for a closer look. As she did so, Sesshoumaru was unexpectedly afforded an unhindered view down the low front of her shirt. Riveted, he gazed at the narrow valley between her full breasts, traced his eyes over each pearly swell, which was cradled lightly in its own cup of white lace. As she moved her arm a bit, one satiny strap slipped a little off her shoulder, and he pierced the tip of his tongue on a fang as he glimpsed a small rosy bud peeking out from the new space between the gauzy fabric and her skin.

“Well,” Kagome groused as she straightened, rising to her feet only to collapse back onto the couch behind her, “if you’re so good at this, how about you finish the rest?” She gestured toward the boxes and coffee table with a cheeky wink. “I’ll just supervise, if that’s okay with you, Mr. Showoff.”

Mr. Showoff…? Sesshoumaru snorted as he reached for the wrapping paper and the next box. If the girl wanted to insult him, she’d have to try harder than that.

He was still lamenting his lost view of her chest—a sight which he might well never see again—when the sound of crinkling plastic drew his attention back up to the couch. Now reclining against the arm of the sofa, Kagome was slowly stripping the giant candy cane of its clear plastic sheath, a curiously determined glint in her eyes.

Sesshoumaru paused in his task. “You’re going to eat that now?”

“Well, I did say I was going to do it right in front you,” she reminded him, dropping the shreds of plastic onto the floor. “Besides,” she said with a small teasing smile, “it looks so good I can hardly resist!”

Sesshoumaru shook his head briefly, certain that he would never understand her. He watched as she grasped the bare length of striped candy in her hands, leveling the tip of the straight end toward her mouth. As her small pink tongue flicked out to taste it, a stray, dirty thought crossed his mind.

That thought grew stronger as her tongue smoothed wetly over the underside of the candy shaft, leaving a glistening trail behind. Rotating the stick in her hands, she licked all around it in long, lazy strokes, her toes curling in obvious pleasure. Soon the red stripes toward the end began to fade; the tip began to narrow. As it did, Kagome at last pushed the rounded stub of the cane past the seal of her lips.

Slowly, she worked the utmost tip of the candy stick in and out, cheeks caving slightly as she sucked. He could imagine her tongue circling that pointed tip within, and his eyelids grew heavy, the gifts and the wrapping completely forgotten. He saw her becoming bolder in her movements, taking in more of that thick sweet shaft, a soft whimper escaping her as her lips stretched wide to accommodate its girth, and Sesshoumaru growled low in his throat, feeling himself getting hard.

At the sound she paused, glancing over at him curiously, the slick candy popping out from her red-stained lips.

“Jealous yet, Sesshoumaru-sama?” Kagome asked him with an innocent smile.

 Jealous…oh yes. He wanted to show her just how jealous he was. But that guileless expression of hers checked him, leaving him feeling like a lecher for ever entertaining such thoughts.

With a “Hn” that he hoped sounded suitably indifferent, he bent his focus toward the present wrapping once more, struggling to cool his heated blood. The girl, he told himself, had no understanding of her effect on him—would never even think of affecting him in such a way.

He had just placed the next box on a stretch of paper when he heard her vigorously resume her activities. She was licking it again—short strokes, this time. Sesshoumaru tried to ignore the lapping of her tongue, the mental image of her gliding its moist point over the sides and tip—

“Mmmmhmm...”

Sesshoumaru stiffened, in more ways than one.

“…soooo good.”

The daiyoukai glowered as she continued to lick and moan. He would not give into this madness, this depravity.

He would not tell her stop, either.

The candy was inside her now, the sound of her stroking tongue replaced by the steady suck and slide of her lips. Sesshoumaru inhaled deeply, feeling that despite the overwhelming circumstances he was gradually regaining his well-renowned control. He had measured the dimensions of the box against the sheet of paper, yet as he moved to cut it, the sudden scent of her arousal blindsided him, and his sharp claw scored through wooden table and wrapping paper alike.

His eyes snapped up to her lounging form. She lay on her back now, her legs slightly bent, her feet braced against the foot of the couch, her fingers red and sticky from sweating against the stripes. With closed eyes, she bobbed her head, pumping her mouth over the length of candy cane in a gesture that could have no other interpretation.

Before he even realized he was moving, Sesshoumaru had plucked the candy from her mouth and pinned her beneath him with a snarl. One flick of his wrist sent her infernal treat sailing through the air, and he listened with satisfaction when it smashed to pieces against the flagstones of the hearth a moment later.

Wide-eyed, Kagome stared up at him, her shoulders trembling faintly beneath his iron grip. “You broke it…” she whispered, hurt.

At her tone, Sesshoumaru relaxed his hold, easing back slightly. Had he been mistaken? The red heat began to bleed from his eyes. Could she truly have wanted the candy that badly?

Then he felt her thigh rising between his legs, caressing him through the material of his pants as she asked him in a sweet, breathy voice, “So…what are you gonna give me in return?”

He didn’t think. He didn’t question. He crushed his mouth to hers in a feverish rush, replacing the minty taste of candy with his own. As his tongue clashed with hers, his hand thrust itself beneath her shirt and the stiff wire of her undergarment, capturing her naked breast and kneading it roughly in his grasp. She gasped into him in shock, writhing as she clutched tightly at his shoulders.

Sesshoumaru knew he should gentle his movements, yet it was hard. He was hard. All he wanted was to ravish this girl until she screamed his name at the top of her lungs. But he couldn’t do that to her.

At least, not yet.

Reluctantly, he broke away, withdrawing his hand from her chest. Below him, Kagome was breathing heavily, her blue eyes shining above her flushed cheeks, her lips swollen and crimson now from more than just the stain of the stripes.

“Your eyes are so red,” she said softly, touching her sticky fingertips to his cheek.

Gazing down at her through the burning haze of his lust, Sesshoumaru covered her upraised hand with his own, her name leaving his lips in a low, gravelly whisper. “Kagome…”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” she interrupted, her brilliant eyes flashing sharp. “Don’t you even try to talk me out of this, Sesshoumaru.”

The daiyoukai snorted. Gently removing her hand from his face, he held it palm-up before him, her sugary fingers slightly curled. Eyes never leaving hers, he lowered his mouth to one slender digit, letting his warm breath fan out over her skin.

“I was only going to say,” he began again, pressing his parted lips to the pad of her index finger, then her middle finger, then her ring finger, her little finger, her palm, “that I have never”—his mouth opened fully against the center of her hand, and she shivered as the tip of his tongue traced across its delicate lines—“in all my years upon this earth”—he slid back down her first finger in a lazy scrape of lip and fang—“tasted anything so sweet.”

Reaching the end, he caught her fingertip in his hungry mouth as he descended, drawing her in two knuckles deep. He heard her gasp again as his tongue swirled over her sweet, salty flesh, laving away the sugar and the sweat, uncovering the flavor beneath that was more delectable still—the flavor of her.

“So you like it, then,” she murmured, whimpering a little at the graze of his teeth, “your stocking gift?”

“Mm,” he agreed as he continued to slowly lick her hands clean—first one, then the other. “How could I not, when it’s presented in this way.”

“Even though it wasn’t a surprise?”

Sesshoumaru scoffed lightly, relinquishing his hold on her hands as he leaned over her, brushing her lips with his own. “I don’t care much for surprises.”

“Well,” Kagome whispered as she tipped up her chin to meet him, her eyelids sliding shut, “that’s a shame.”

If her words sounded strange, Sesshoumaru had little time to ponder them, as an instant later her mouth was slanting firmly over his, her fingers threading through his bound hair, urging him farther down. His hands circled her narrow waist, thumbs smoothing over the flatness of her exposed stomach before rising higher, ghosting over her ribs, hooking beneath the hidden wire of her undergarment once again. Teasingly, he traced the lower curves of her breasts with the tips of his claws, swallowing her needy moans in his mouth.

He could feel her growing increasingly restless beneath him. Her own blunt nails scratched at his scalp as she arched her back, striving to bring her chest in contact with his, her bottom half twisting exquisitely between the cage of his knees. He wanted her like this, wanton and desperate, clawing at him for proper attention. Perhaps he was punishing her a bit for that stunt with the candy…or perhaps he simply enjoyed making her squirm.

Sliding one hand around past her ribcage, Sesshoumaru trailed his fingertips along the ridge of her spine, causing her bowed back to curve even farther in. Her moans had become a low whine that reverberated in his throat as he continued to mold his mouth over her pliant lips and test her with his tongue. He had resolved to remove the last traces of mint from her person, and the Lord of the Western Lands was nothing if not thorough.

Satisfied at last with his efforts, and starting to grow restless again himself, he nipped her lower lip as he pulled away, dragging her shirt overhead with him. Kagome ducked out of it eagerly, her nimble fingers reaching for the hem of his sweater, tugging it up in fistfuls before he all but tore it off himself. The dress shirt beneath he did tear off, as it had far too many damnable buttons to bother with undoing.

Seeing the violence he’d readily committed upon his own, much simpler article of clothing, Kagome hastily removed the lacy contraption binding her breasts, and they spilled suddenly into view—as round and rosy and perfect as he’d imagined. His cock twitched hard at the sight, and he abandoned his straddling position over her legs in favor of kneeling between them.

“Beautiful,” he rumbled appreciatively as he ran his claws from her hips to her upper ribs, dipping his mouth to one pert nipple as he cupped her other breast firmly in his hand.

Oh,” Kagome moaned beneath him, her thighs clamping around his hips like a vise as he worried her captured bud between his lips and teeth, tongue stroking it in time with the flicking of his thumb at her other peak. “Oh, Sesshoumaru…that feels amazing…”

Her fingers had found their way back into his hair, tousling his bangs and freeing the rest of it from the loose tie at his nape. Tilting her head up with his available wrist, he did the same, her long, soft tresses soon flowing through his fingers like so much silk as he bit down lightly into the flesh of her mound, eliciting a sharp cry.

“Shh,” he hushed as he soothed his tongue over the tiny puncture marks, the faint taste of her blood richer and sweeter than any candy. Kagome whimpered, tense, but he could feel her relaxing a little more with each careful stroke. “…Good girl.”

Easing her arms down to her sides, he rose up, rubbing his chest over hers as he kissed the side of her throat lingeringly before nicking her just below the jaw. Kagome hissed, her arms hooked under his, using his own shoulders as leverage as she raised her hips and ground against him, hard.

Whatever tenuous grip he had over his base impulses abruptly snapped.

He surged back, jabbing the head of his rigid cock into the tender heat between her thighs, “Do you feel it,” he growled low and deep, “do you feel how badly I want you?

“Yes,” Kagome rasped, the barrier of fabric between them stretching taut as she beckoned him deeper in. “I…I want you, too.”

Sesshoumaru didn’t need to be told twice.

Claiming her lips in a brief, harsh kiss, he slid down the length of her body, claws hooking in the waistband of her shorts as he went. He backed out of the cradle of her hips, drawing her knees together so that he could pull that scrap of clothing down and off.

Before, when he’d glimpsed her naked ass as she’d bent over, he had assumed she wasn’t wearing anything else beneath the shorts. Now, he realized how sorely he’d been mistaken.

“What…” Sesshoumaru muttered in surprise, his brow knitting as he managed to frown thoughtfully through the mindless roaring of his blood.

A small triangle of cloth yet hid her sex from his view—thong underwear, he knew, not being nearly so far behind the times as Kagome liked to believe. While its presence wasn’t so astonishing, the pattern it bore had most certainly caught him off-guard.

An alternating series of red and white stripes crisscrossed the surface at a slant, a tiny bow of red ribbon gracing the inverted triangle top and center.

After staring for a moment longer, Sesshoumaru looked up at her face. Her eyes were hooded, and there was nothing remotely virginal about the smile she was sporting.

“Merry Christmas, Sesshoumaru.”

The daiyoukai’s gaze narrowed.

She had planned this. From the moment she’d laid eyes on that candy cane in the store, she had begun to plot. Or had her thoughts of seduction begun even earlier than that? Just how long had she been conspiring against him in this way?

Sesshoumaru might have been affronted, if he wasn’t so thoroughly aroused.

“You,” he growled, burying his nose in the juncture of her thighs, inhaling the thick, heady musk of her yearning, “are a very”—he nudged at the sensitive top of her mound—“naughty girl.”

Kagome’s giddy laughter turned into a low whine as he ran his tongue roughly along the seam of her lower lips, tasting her through the damp, thin layer of striped fabric covering her core. Sesshoumaru groaned.

There was the sweetness he craved.

Too ravenous to continue teasing her through the cloth, Sesshoumaru dragged the narrow bridge of her underwear aside, his other hand gripping the meat of her ass as he began to lap at her brimming cunt, squeezing and devouring her relentlessly. Kagome cried out, bucking against him, and he adjusted his hold to keep her fixed in place, precisely where he wanted her, his daiyoukai pride insisting he regain the upper hand.

“Take me,” Kagome demanded a moment later on a ragged breath, writhing beneath him. “Stop messing around and take me now, you jerk-face dog!”

To hell with pride.

Sesshoumaru reared back, ripping the scrap of twisted, sodden fabric from her legs as he wrenched himself free of his pants. He had a moment to smirk at her wide-eyed look before he sank back down between her thighs, hands framing her sides as he pushed himself partway in.

Ah!” Kagome choked at the intrusion, and Sesshoumaru swore. He’d never felt anything so tight around his cock.

Gritting his teeth against the raw sting of pleasure, he buried himself slowly to the hilt. Kagome stiffened beneath him, digging her fingers into his biceps as she panted in short little bursts.

“Relax,” he told her gruffly—which was fine advice for him to give, when he himself was trembling from the strain of holding his lust in check.

His instincts urged him to thrust, to take his pleasure. But the demon Lord of the West was not some brute ruled by instinct alone, and so he held himself in check, savoring the wet silken clutch of her sheath as he waited for her rigidity to subside. Through blood-clouded eyes, he gazed down at her, at her lovely face flushed with desire and framed by the dark glossy spill of her hair, at her lithe limbs and ample rose-capped breasts, at the union of their bodies, where the damp outer lips of her sex opened like a flower around the base of his shaft.

It was surreal. To think in one afternoon he’d gone from stealing his first glimpse of her naked breast to rutting with her on the family couch…the Inu no Taishou must be having a nice long laugh at him in hell.

“Sesshoumaru…? Is something wrong?”

Glancing down, he saw that her fine dark brows were drawn, her azure eyes glimmering in concern. Sesshoumaru realized he had been scowling.

“No,” the daiyoukai replied as he schooled his expression, “I was only thinking of my father.”

“…Oh.”

Inwardly, Sesshoumaru cursed his poor choice of words. No woman wanted to hear such talk from one who was currently inside her...

As he sought a way to recant what he’d said, her hips moved against his in a tiny, experimental flex. Within her, his stiff cock throbbed in answer, and all coherent thought promptly abandoned him.

His arms encircled her as he bent low, catching her mouth with his. One fluid pull and he removed himself to the tip, only to glide back in again, her slippery cunt soon matching him stroke for languid stroke. For a while they enjoyed this leisurely pursuit of rocking hips, of questing lips and hands.

Roaming between them, his fingers came to settle at last on the swollen nub of flesh nestled between the folds of her sex. As he pressed and circled it, her inner muscles began to seize and flare, strangled moans dragging from her throat. The rise and fall of her hips grew urgent, desperate, and he found himself grunting as he strove to meet her frantic pace.

She was near now, and so was he—and he’d be damned if he lost out to her here at the end. After all the teasing and tricks and frustration, Sesshoumaru felt he was long overdue some recompense.

So he retreated from the warm wet cavern of her mouth, from the soft breasts pillowed against the muscle of his chest. Leaning back, he gathered her up beneath the backs of her knees, bending her thighs toward her stomach as he drove deep and hard into her grasping cunt, stoking her desire to its breaking point.

In this position, she could no longer buck against him—could do nothing more than lie there and receive his pounding thrusts. Her head tossed from side to side, her breasts raised and shaking, her fingers scrabbling at the cushions around her.

She was beautiful. She was perfect. She was his.

The walls of her cunt cinched around him like a noose, heralding the end.

“Sesshoumaru, Sesshoumaru,” she sobbed, helpless and wracked with tension. “Please don’t stop. Please don’t—”

He stopped.

It took every ounce of willpower Sesshoumaru possessed, to draw to a sudden halt in the midst of her ecstatic cries, on the precipice of his own release. Yet somehow he did. There was something he needed to tell her, something he needed her to hear.

The kiss he pressed to the inside of her knee was surprisingly chaste, he thought, given the circumstances.

His hooded eyes lifted, meeting her angry, agonized gaze with easy sincerity.

“Kagome,” he said, his slight smile warm and true, “Merry Christmas.”

His hips slammed forward, knocking her off the edge of her bliss like a battering ram. A loud wail in the vague shape of his name rent the air as Kagome came against him with a violent shudder, her back arching off the couch. Sesshoumaru held out for about a minute more before the aftershocks of her orgasm drew him over as well, and he spent his seed deep in her pulsing core.

Breathless and sated, the daiyoukai sagged heavily against her upraised legs, and it was some time before either of them could find the wherewithal to move again. As the afterglow of his release faded, the world around him gradually came into sharper focus.

Glancing down at his wrists, he saw that that his crimson stripes had resurfaced at some point during their mating, and the rest of his markings were probably visible now as well. He would have to reinstate the enchantment that concealed them, but his discarded clothing, he discovered, would be considerably more problematic to restore, as much of it lay scattered in pieces about the room. His sweater might have been salvageable at least, were it not currently serving as bedding for that useless cat the Higurashi family permitted to live in their home.

Hunched atop his dark green sweater, which was now picked by claws and littered with multicolored fur, the feline licked at a chunk of candy cane that had skittered across the floor. At Sesshoumaru’s glare, the animal raised its head, blinking at him lazily as if in recognition before flopping onto its side, baring its stomach to his view.

“Mm, Sesshoumaru?”

Kagome shifted. His flaccid length, still resting inside her, stirred faintly. Sesshoumaru withdrew, pulling her up and into his arms. Smiling sleepily, she embraced him, reclining her warm cheek against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured after a while, her fingers trailing gently over his side in a meandering caress.

Sesshoumaru glanced down at her curiously, tilting her chin up so that she could meet his gaze. Though she had proved herself a devious little minx, he could hardly see how that warranted an apology, all things considered.

“For what?”

“For calling you a ‘jerk-face dog,’” she replied, averting her eyes a bit in shame. “I’m not even sure exactly what I meant by it, but it still wasn’t a nice thing to say.”

Sesshoumaru chuckled, startling her. But he couldn’t contain himself. After seducing him and begging him to pound her senseless, she was apologizing to him over some tame, juvenile insult she’d hurled at him in the heat of passion? What an amusing contradiction she was.

“Tell me,” he said, still smiling in bemusement, “do you typically resort to such name-calling during sex?”

“No!” Kagome shot back in surprise, coloring faintly. “I mean—that is—I’ve never slept with anyone else before, so…”

Sesshoumaru stared at her, frowning. What?

Apparently, he’d spoken the question aloud, because a defensive glint sparked in her eyes.

“It’s not like I haven’t had opportunities, you know,” she said testily, crossing her arms over her breast. “I just never felt comfortable going ‘all the way’ with guys I didn’t love.”

Sesshoumaru stared at her again as the impact of her words registered fully.

“…Love?”

“O-of course,” she replied, boldly meeting his gaze, the faint tremor in her voice belying her reservation. “What sort of girl do you take me for?”

What sort, indeed. Smiling to himself, Sesshoumaru bent down, swiftly covering her lips with his own. After today’s events, he wasn’t entirely sure—but he was certainly looking forward to finding out.

Kagome ended their kiss with a sigh, her fingertips wandering lower, skirting the dip between his hipbone and abdominal muscle. Sesshoumaru stilled, drawing in a short breath when she alighted on his hardening shaft, her touch light and questioning.

“I’d thought you might have stripes here, too,” she said with a tiny grin, studying the pale length of him in open fascination as she ran her fingertips across his burgeoning erection.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” the daiyoukai said smoothly, his wry response ending in a grimace of pleasure when her thumb brushed unexpectedly over the sensitive underside of his head.

Enormously pleased with herself at this reaction, Kagome slipped one knee across his waist as she raised him to her slick center, leaning in for a quick peck on the lips. Sesshoumaru bit back a groan at the brief, sensual flattening of her breasts against him.

“Won’t your family be returning soon?” he asked her lowly, even as he guided her hips down to his waiting cock.

“Nah,” Kagome replied with a little shake of her head, “they’re always late getting home on days like this.” Locking her arms around his shoulders, she sank slowly down upon him, a teasing smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “And I don’t think Buyo is going to be snitching on us anytime soon.”

(However, unbeknownst to either of them at the time, one family member had arrived home earlier than expected that day. After his buddy Shinsuke had taken a racquetball to the nose, Souta and his friends had been forced to cut their fun short, and the younger Higurashi sibling, being hungry and a little bloodied by his friend’s unfortunate nose-spray, had decided to return home. Passing by the living room window on his way to the kitchen side-door, he had been greeted by a most unexpected and unwanted sight, which had promptly sent him fleeing as fast as he could in the opposite direction, in addition to scarring him for life.

Though Kagome never discovered that her brother had witnessed them in the act, Sesshoumaru later had to endure many a snide, under-the-breath remark from Souta on the subject of being caught “balls-deep” in his sister, as the young man slowly and resentfully worked through his brief traumatic foray into voyeurism.)

But for now, they both carried on in blissful ignorance. After a short period of adjustment, Kagome was riding him steadily, punctuating her easy bounce with the occasional rotation, while Sesshoumaru smoothed his hands over her stomach and chest and gazed at her in soft amazement.

“How are you not in pain?” he mused aloud, molding his fingers over her breasts.

A slight furrow creased her brow before her blue eyes widened in understanding.

“Oh, well…I already kind of, er, took care of that on my own,” Kagome answered with a crooked smile.

“Took care of it?”

“Yeah, you know,” she said, slowing, “with a plastic one.”

“A sex toy?” he growled in disbelief. Absurdly, the image of Kagome impaling herself on that oversized candy cane flitted through his mind, making him pulse within her.

“Jeez,” the miko laughed, shaking her head. “Don’t be offended by this, Sesshoumaru,” she continued, biting her lower lip briefly as she slid down on him from tip to hilt, eliciting a deep groan of need.

“…But you’re kind of a prude.”

_____________

Eventually, all the gifts were wrapped and put away before Kagome’s family members returned (and Souta crept cautiously back for the second time). Sesshoumaru himself managed to slip the small gilt box from the candy shop worker into Kagome’s stocking when she wasn’t looking, and when she opened it on Christmas morning in front of him and her whole family, all were mortified to discover that it contained a single, chocolate-flavored condom, the whereabouts of which were later 'unknown.'

The deep, mysterious scratch across the living room coffee table was never properly explained.

_____________

…the end

 

INUYASHA © Rumiko Takahashi/Shogakukan • Yomiuri TV • Sunrise 2000
No money is being made from the creation or viewing of content on this site, which is strictly for personal, non-commercial use, in accordance with the copyright.