Sesshoumaru was silent, palpably so. Hunched over with her chest to the bed, Kagome lay there trembling in a purgatory of suspense. Her wet sex smoldered in the open air. She felt too needy to be properly mortified at how shamelessly she was presenting herself. 

A riot of images whirred through her mind. Transporting her back to the first time she’d showed herself to him in that miserable hut. The desperation she’d felt back then had been similar, though the source of it couldn’t have been any more different. It had been like stepping off a ledge, to offer herself to him. In her fevered mind she saw, like her life flashing before her eyes, all that had come after—mingled cum dripping out of her, blood threading down her breast, the sear of his eyes in the darkness, beads of sweat on his chiseled body, her thighs taut and splayed around the thick cock goring into her, laying her utterly to waste.

All of it precipitated by a single, damning touch. With bated breath, she knelt here at the precipice once more, longing and dreading, awaiting the stroke from him that would send her into freefall all over again.

But that stroke never came.

There was a feathery swish of silk as Sesshoumaru stood and started for the door. A rush of sheer, primal panic ripped up through Kagome’s chest, burst out rasping from her throat as her eyes streaked toward him—

“I need you to get me off.”

Sesshoumaru stopped. His glaring eyes cut to her as he slowly turned. Kagome tensed, taken aback by the thunderous expression on his face. Around him youki crackled. His pale hair and fur sparked, bristling. Dark blood pattered from his fist to the floor. Kagome’s first alarmed thought was that he was furious—more furious than she had ever seen him before. 

Then she understood, as his darkening glare raked over her and he advanced a stalking step, that he was just furiously aroused.

“Sit up,” he growled, and Kagome scrambled up awkwardly onto her knees.

Her chest heaved as he closed in on her. The dark points of her nipples peaked through her white robe, outlined even more sharply by the wet spots her leaking milk had made. She felt exposed, despite the fact she was still mostly clothed. As she’d sat up on her haunches, her robe had fallen back down a bit, but its lower hem was still mostly bunched around her hips. Her bent legs were bare, and from the sliver of air she felt between them, so was the rest of her lower half to him.

Unarmored, Sesshoumaru knelt before her on the bed. The current of his youki ebbed over her, through her—a dark, heated resonance. His molten eyes were trained on her face as he slid his claws between the crack in her thighs and held her cupped there, hot and wet and quivering in his hand.

Kagome’s hand flew to his wrist, neither restraining him nor encouraging him. Just holding to him on reflex as she whimpered, rocking into the cradle of his palm. She thought she might dissolve from the crushing pleasure of her clit grinding against him, skin and bones. She spread her knees wider to further the contact, to expose as much of her tender inner flesh to him as she could. Her parted lips pressed damply to him, rubbing, seeking—trying on her own to draw him closer to where she ached the most.

Sesshoumaru’s gimlet eyes flickered, like he was watching this panoply of mounting desire play out on her face. Kagome’s cheeks burned hot as she watched him watch her. But she couldn’t help herself anymore. She was too far gone to care.

His hooded stare broke from hers as he dipped his head and took one of her wet clothed nipples into his mouth. The balmy heat of his tongue scourged her to the core. The graze of his fangs made her breath catch in her lungs. Reflexively, she clutched at him again. Her twitching fingers tangled in his silky hair. Her breath hissed out of her when he bit lightly into her breast, just as he rolled his thumbpad over the swollen crest of her sex.

“Sesshoumaru,” she moaned, like it was the only word she had left.

He rumbled into her, sucking her nipple into his hot fanged mouth again. She didn’t realize he’d retracted his claws until his hand drew back between her legs, and he plunged a finger into her. Kagome’s head tossed back as she bit down on the side of her hand to smother her sharp cry. He pumped her, prised her. The tortuous combination of suction and penetration had hot tears squeezing from her eyes. 

Threading a second finger through her slit to join the first, Sesshoumaru straightened, releasing her breast to study her face again. As if he could gauge just by her coloring and the expression in her eyes what she was feeling when he fucked her with his hand. He nudged the heel of it into her clit, stroked with a slight furl against her frontal wall. Kagome bucked, fluttering within. Her lips parted on a silent gasp of pleasure. She grasped out blindly, scrabbling at his stony knees for purchase.

His own eyes were perfect mirrors. Purely reflective, revealing nothing. She couldn’t read him like he could read her. A new sort of desperation gripped her, to know what he was feeling. To feel how she affected him, like he affected her. Her hands skimmed up along his folded legs. Much like he’d done to her, she fit her palm to him, front and center, and felt at once raring and blazing through the silk, just how profound his reaction to her was.

She saw it then, too—the dark fire that lit his gaze when she touched him. His own touch inside her stilled. Keeping her eyes on his, Kagome reached for the ties of his hakama, fumbling at them for a moment before he undid them one-handed and guided her hand through the gap. The slack folds of his haori parted at her advance. Her fingers brushed his sculpted lower stomach, tracing the rock-hard muscle and the suede-like stripe that tapered steeply toward his groin. 

Almost shyly, she let her touch descend farther, into the pulsing heat that was radiating from him in darkly enticing waves. Her fingers curved over the smooth beam of his shaft, and it was like gripping steel and satin all at once. With both hands, she drew his demonic cock out into the light and gawked openly at it. It wasn’t a sight she thought she could ever get used to.

As she ran her hands over his frightful length and girth, Sesshoumaru’s fingers pistoned in her again. Kagome’s walls clenched, milking at them fruitlessly. Dipping back into his hakama, she palmed his tight, weighty balls in her fervor—making Sesshoumaru visibly tense, until he grabbed her hand and returned it to his cock again. Lacing their fingers together, he guided her touch over and along him, squeezing his fist over hers, smoothing her palm over the slick seam in his crown.

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi

Revised 5/12/23