He came upon her from behind.

As usual, the girl was irritatingly oblivious to her surroundings. Sighing, she bent down, reaching for another stick when his hand seized her by the shoulder, the branches in her arms clattering to the ground as he slammed her back against a tree. Wide blue eyes stared up at him in surprise.

“Tell me now,” he said lowly, his claws digging into her skin, “what is there between you and the wolf?”

“K-Kouga?” Nervously, she shook her head. “There isn’t anything between us.”

“A member of his pack called you his mate,” Sesshoumaru snarled.

The girl flinched, guilt suffusing her scent once more. “I-I tried to tell you…Kouga tends to jump to conclusions. He’s got it in his head that I’m his woman.”

“And why is that?” the daiyoukai seethed, repressing the urge to crush her fragile bones. “What have you promised him?”

“I haven’t promised him anything,” she bit out. “He’s just a friend to me.”

“Is that so.” Her anger stoked his own, his hand going to her throat as he pressed himself against her. “How many other friends do you have, miko? Do you go to their aid when it suits you?” His grip tightened further. “Or do they merely come to yours, as I did that day by the stream?”

Her expression darkened, her pulse flaring beneath his thumb. “Don’t insult me, Sesshoumaru. The only man who’s ever touched me is you.” She raised her chin, the glint of defiance in her eyes stirring his blood to new and terrible heights. “But even if that wasn’t true, I don’t see how it’s any business of yours.”

He stared at her, his claws locked around her throat, his body crushing her own. Truly, she was mad, to provoke him in this way. Fury and arousal warred within him, searing and fierce–a torrent of vicious need scorching through his veins. She gasped as he forced her to the ground on her knees, the front of her haori shearing open against the spikes of his armor.

“What business is it of mine,” he rumbled, his fingers fisting in her hair, her head snapping back beneath his grasp. “You are not a free woman. You have sold yourself to this Sesshoumaru, and I will not share you.”

Her hands clutched at his thighs, her gaze curiously clouded as she nodded in understanding. His grip relaxed as he looked upon her–her beautiful face lifted toward him, open and guileless, her supple body bent before him in clear submission. She would never be his alpha–she would never be anyone’s alpha. She was his shameful, mortal secret–his to keep for as long as he saw fit.

His to discard.

He reminded himself of this as her fingers skimmed up along the silk of his hakama, his breath hitching when they slipped beneath the upraised plate of his armor and brushed against his hardened length. She was gazing up at him still, her full pink lips parted slightly, her long dark lashes descending as she continued to caress him through his clothes.

“…What is it that you want from me, Sesshoumaru?”

His eyes widened at the starkness of the question, his erection throbbing against her brazen little hand. A few clasps burst, thudding against the mossy earth, as he tore his armor from him, steering her hand forcefully through the wrenched opening of his hakama. He burned as he felt her touch upon his naked flesh, the light, uncertain curve of her fingers around him making him twitch with uncontrollable need. His left hand latched around her wrist, the claws of his other cutting into the bark of the tree behind her as she tried–and failed–to encircle him completely.

Half-guiding her, he watched her face as she explored him, her brilliant eyes veiled with desire, her lower lip pulled enticingly between her teeth. As her gaze fell, so did his. Through the mending tears in her haori, he could still see the red scratches his armor had left on her soft, creamy skin. His hand slid up from her wrist, his claws scoring her lightly beneath her sleeve. He wanted to mark every inch of her, to brand her so fully that no one–herself most of all–would ever think to question his claim.

As he savored this thought, swelled with this thought, her touch grew bolder, her clenched fingers gliding over him with increasing speed, her blunt nails grazing incidentally–pleasurably–along the thick central seam of his shaft as she was forced to re-adjust her grip. When she pulled him out into the open air, she stilled, a low impatient growl escaping him as he thrust insistently into her furled hand.

Belatedly, indulgently, he realized she was arrested by the sight of him. Leaning back a bit, he studied her face as she stared at the hard, jutting prominence of his arousal, her trepidation fading before his eyes–eclisped by a rapt interest that had his claws burying themselves in her hair once again. He groaned raggedly as she brought her thumb to the weeping tip of his erection, the testing swirl of her touch there nearly undoing him. But it was when she bowed her head, when she drew him unexpectedly into the hot liquid softness of her mouth that his spine went rigid with shock and desire, his buried claws wrenching her head up in violent, lustful disbelief.

“Where did you learn that?” he demanded roughly.

She stared at him in hazy confusion, her hand still wrapped around him. “T-the movies…”

He glared back at her, his patience long spent. “What?” he snapped.

“U-um…” Licking her lips, she struggled to collect her clearly addled thoughts. “Where I’m from we have these–these sort of paintings–that also move…so you can see, you know, motions and–”

“You’ve watched this with other men?”

“N-no!” she exclaimed, flushing. “Not with men–with my friends–oh wait, oh gods…um, that’s not what I meant! I see what you were asking now…well, yes, technically, there are ‘other men’ in the pictures, so I-I guess I’ve watched them being um…”

Sesshoumaru could feel the beginnings of a headache taking root behind his eyes. Shortly, he exhaled.

“Stop rambling, Kagome,” he said tersely, dragging her forward by the nape, “and continue.”

His claws gouged the tree they were braced against as her sweet, warm breath flowed over the still-damp head of his sex, her soft lips parting around him as she took him in once again. Sinking deeper into the wet exquisite heat of her mouth, he curled his claws against her scalp, urging her along as she attempted to swallow him whole. She had only taken him halfway in when he hit the back of her throat, a gravelly breath escaping him as she whimpered, the soft sound reverberating through him entirely.

Slowly, firmly, he guided her back, his eyes following the glistening trail her damp lips left along his blood-darkened skin. Near the peak of his erection he paused, a shiver spiking through him as her tongue traced along the underside of his shaft, tasted the very tip of him where even now his desire for her was leaking from him–only to be swept away by the gentle tortuous flicker of her tongue. Between his heavy breaths, he watched her move over him, her lashes fluttering almost closed as she worked to bring him to his end.

His right hand fell from the tree, joining with his left as he brought her face abruptly toward him. Her cry of shock muffled as he pushed past the back of her throat, forcing her to take as much of him as she could bear. She gagged and whimpered, her large lovely eyes gleaming up at him as he thrust fully into her for a fraction of a moment, her lips brushing fleetingly against his base as he released himself inside her with a thunderous growl.

Through the red fog of his lust, he watched her tears spill over at last, her lips stretched taut around him, her delicate throat working to swallow down his seed as it continued to spill within her. With primal possessiveness, his hand clasped the side of her face, his clawed thumb stroking again and again along the perfect softness of her cheek.

---

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi

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