“How sparkly!” Shippo exclaimed, hopping down from Kirara’s back. “Is it magic?”

From the tree branch above them Inuyasha scoffed. “Don’t be stupid. It’s just che-mi-cals,” he said, pronouncing the modern-era word with irritable deliberation. “And if you ask me, it’s too damn much.”

“Well nobody did ask you, did they?” the kitsune shot back.

As Miroku chuckled, Inuyasha flattened his ears.

“So pretty, Kagome-chan!” Sango said, bending down for a closer look.

Kagome blushed, turning her sandaled foot this way and that. “Thanks! I wanted to be festive for the holidays, but a miko’s wardrobe doesn’t leave much room for creative flair.” Wiggling her shiny toes for emphasis, the miko beamed. “It was my mom’s idea—we did our nails together.”

“The little jewels are just lovely. I don’t think I’ve ever seen ones so small—they must have cost a fortune.”

“They’re called rhinestones,” Kagome replied, “and they’re actually really cheap!”

Inuyasha snorted. “Yeah, ’cause they’re really fake.”

The miko glared up at him before smiling back at Sango. “I’ll bring some with me next time—there are all sorts of colors and shapes. Us girls can have a mani-pedi party!” Warmly, she glanced over to the pony-tailed figure half-hidden behind a tree. “What do you say, Rin-chan? Sound like fun?”

Shyly, Rin smiled back. “Hai, Kagome-chan. If Sesshoumaru-sama doesn’t mind.”

Kagome waved. “Oh, I’m sure he—”

The miko tensed, paling. Her smile curdled on her face as she met Sesshoumaru’s baleful stare. Though his youki was concealed, she could still practically see it roiling, dark and menacing, beneath the shadowed cast of his features. His eyes narrowed fractionally at her, two shards of icy gold, before he turned on his heel and melted into the snowy woods.

“Geez…” Kagome breathed out, recovering, as Rin frowned after him. “What was that all about?”

“Probably the smell,” Inuyasha groused, wrinkling his nose. “That shit on your toes kinda reeks.”

Shippo shook his head. Miroku and Sango sighed. Balling her hands into fists at her sides, Kagome stalked over. Her eyes flashed up to the perched hanyou who was already trying to make a break for it.

“Sit, boy!” she yelled, as he came crashing down mid-spring. “Sit, sit, sit!”

…

“Ahhh,” Kagome sighed, her breath misting out before her in the wintry air.

A dusting of fresh snow blanketed the forest floor, sparkling golden in the sunlight. Having found a bit of dry ground beneath the dense awning of a fir tree, Kagome settled back against its scratchy trunk. Her bare feet dangled before her, soaking in the balmy waters of a small hot spring.

Coming across this place while gathering winter herbs had been a stroke of good luck. All that day she’d been troubled by Sesshoumaru’s hostile reaction to her pedicure. It had left her feeling self-conscious, and more than a little foolish. The thought hadn’t even crossed her mind how the smell of fresh nail polish would afflict an inuyoukai’s keen senses.

Frowning down at her glossy green, glitter-encrusted toes, Kagome couldn’t help but second-guess her frivolous holiday indulgence. With another long sigh, she sagged against the tree, feeling silly and put-out. Hopefully, the hot mineral water of the spring would whisk away the last traces of offending scent.

Hugging her shawl about her, Kagome was on the verge of dozing off when a spine-tingling awareness had the fine hairs of her nape standing on-end.

The forest had gone deathly quiet. Kagome’s fingers curled around the grip of her bow on instinct, though she couldn’t detect any malignant youki. Straightening from her slouch, she started to turn and rise—the sudden sight of a white-clad figure looming above her making her eep! in surprise.

“Sesshoumaru!” she gasped, clutching the bow to her chest. “You startled me.”

Silently, Sesshoumaru continued to loom. Though his expressions were always more or less cold and unreadable, there was a low, simmering fury in his gaze which was hard to misinterpret: clearly, he was still sore about the olfactory assault from earlier.

This was not reassuring, but Kagome forced a conciliating smile all the same. “Hey, listen…I’m sorry about the nail polish smell. I didn’t think about how it would come off—er, literally.” When he continued to frostily glare, Kagome stood up, little tendrils of steam rising from her feet. “I’ve been soaking my toes here for a while, so the scent shouldn’t be so strong anymore.” Timidly, she lifted a pruny heel for emphasis. “If not, I’m sure that in a day or so—”

“Take it off.”

His cold words hit Kagome like a slap in the face. Mouth agape, she blinked up at him. “Um, sorry—what?”

“That foul—paint,” Sesshoumaru said through gritted fangs, “is an abomination. Take it off now.”

Kagome clenched her jaw. This guy sure had some nerve. Here she was, trying for all the world to be accommodating to his sensitive nose, and this was how he repaid her consideration?

“You’re a real jerk, you know that?” the miko exploded. “I worked hard on this so-called ‘abomination‘—it took me forever! I had to redo the whole thing two times to get the pattern right, and that’s not even counting all the filing and trimming, the base coats, top coats, and drying time. So—so—” Kagome spluttered, trying to formulate an insult that would properly express the depths of her indignation. “So, why don’t you just go and eat a toad!”

Sesshoumaru glared at her. Just as fiercely, Kagome glared back. It seemed that they were at a total impasse—that is, until a streak of ivory fur lashed out, upending her completely. The miko grunted as she hit the snow, her ankle snared above her in Sesshoumaru’s stony claws.

“W-what are you doing?!” she gasped in horror, struggling.

But the daiyoukai held fast to her, weathering the angry burst of her reiki with a grimace. Kagome could only stare on in mute shock as the glowing edge of a claw pressed to the nail of her immobilized right foot, shearing off her precious polish like the press of a blade to a fruit peel.

“Kyaaaaah! Stop it, Sesshoumaru—stop!” Aghast, the miko scrabbled for her bow. “Are you crazy?! Let go of me, let go!”

In her panic, Kagome shoved the blazing limb of her bow into his chest. His armor cracked, threads of light splintering through it before the heavy plates crumbled and fell from him completely. But this only seemed to make him that much more determined, as he bore down on her and started whittling the polish off her left foot as well. Glittery green shavings drifted down like snowflakes. Weakly now, Kagome thrashed beneath him, a hurt little whimper sounding in her throat.

“You bully…” she said woundedly.

Sesshoumaru eased off her, crushing fresh snow to her naked toes to ensure every last trace of polish was gone. It was like adding insult to injury. Shiny and pink, Kagome’s nails peeped out at her as she shivered.

“Satisfied now?” she asked him bitterly, glaring up.

But Sesshoumaru didn’t seem to hear her. Kagome’s eyes went wide at just how satisfied he looked, still holding her bare feet captive in his claws. The miko swallowed at the dark, heated raptness with which he studied them, the trace of his eyes from heel to toe so intent Kagome felt it like a stroke.

Kagome felt like she was having a stroke.

“S-Sesshoumaru?” she managed. “Do you…like feet?”

His searing eyes cut to her then, so sharp and savage Kagome feared keenly for her life. Abruptly, he dropped his hold on her and stood, radiating hostility as he turned away—though not before she caught sight of the scarily huge bulge tenting the snowy silk of his hakama.

Somewhere in Kagome’s brain, something short-circuited.

“Wait!” she called after him, flushing. “Sesshoumaru, wait.” Wondering if she had some sort of death-wish, the miko bristled, setting her hands on her hips. “After the way you accosted me just now, you owe me some sort of explanation—or at the very least an apology!”

Sesshoumaru stopped. The narrowed look he shot back at her was pure seething murder. Oh boy, the miko despaired, though she met his eye with as much pluck as she could muster from the spot where he’d left her sprawled and disheveled in the snow.

“The one who should apologize is you,” he said lowly, the brittle ground crunching as he retraced his steps to her. The monster erection she thought she’d glimpsed was gone—and Kagome didn’t know whether to be relieved at this or not. “Such lengths you force me to—such indignities. You must take pleasure in tormenting me.”

Kagome frowned up at him, completely befuddled. “What…what the heck are you talking about?”

The points of his fangs seemed to spark. “Don’t insult me, vixen.”

Kagome’s jaw promptly unhinged. Vixen?! Her mind raced to understand what he could possibly be so resentful about. Feet, she thought, her brows knitting in consternation, something about feet…

“My loafers!” she realized aloud. “You were the one who kept stealing them, weren’t you?”

Sesshoumaru’s youki flared, making her start. “You kept replacing them.”

“Of course I did!” Kagome cried.

“So,” he said darkly, “you admit to it then.”

Kagome glared. “What else was I supposed to do?”

“Wear sandals like one who isn’t determined to be coy.”

“Well, sorry I was being ‘coy’ in your estimation, but I needed those loafers for school—because of your petty thieving, my family’s shoe budget was through the roof that year!”

Sesshoumaru didn’t look the least bit sorry for it. Kagome scowled.

“You gave up the ruse, eventually,” he said, with cool condescension.

“Because I graduated!” she exclaimed, beside herself. “And it wasn’t a ‘ruse’!”

Sesshoumaru regarded her with remembered scorn. “And those atrocious patterned socks you took to wearing, after?”

“My ‘Mr.Bow-Wow And Friends’ ultra-soft sleep socks?!” Kagome guessed, incensed. “I just knew those holes in the toes were forming way too fast…”

“Yet you wore them to skimpy shreds all the same.”

“It was a cold winter!” Kagome shot back, her brain stumbling over the word skimpy. “And just how long have you been spying on me, anyway?”

Ignoring the question, Sesshoumaru said, “But with this latest affront—this polish—you have pushed me too far. Such was the aim of your teasing, no doubt: to provoke me to disgraceful action.”

Kagome stared at him at a loss, totally floored that anyone could be so egotistical as to attribute a series of completely mundane events to a consolidated, personal attack. But then, it was this Sesshoumaru she was dealing with here…

The miko sighed, shaking her head. “I promise, Sesshoumaru, there’s been no years-long conspiracy on my part to antagonize you. I honestly had no idea you were so—well—so into feet.”

With predatory intensity, the demon lord scrutinized her earnest expression. The wired tightness in his jaw relaxed a fraction as he looked askance.

“Not feet,” he said tersely. “But yours—yes, I suppose I am ‘into’ them. They are exceptional.”

“Just my feet?” Kagome asked, a little chagrined.

“You are a beautiful woman,” he replied, as if commenting on the weather, though Kagome’s stomach did an unexpected flip. “If you weren’t, it would be a distraction.”

Kagome pursed her lips. Well, that put somewhat of a damper on the whole ‘beautiful’ remark. With a critical eye, she glanced down past the rolled-up hem of her hakama and rubbed some life back into her pale, freezing toes. Truth be told, she’d never paid much attention to her feet—they were certainly among the parts of her appearance she considered the least. Small and symmetrical, they were nice enough, she supposed. But then again, she was no connoisseur.

“I don’t really see it,” she admitted at last.

Sesshoumaru lowered himself gracefully before her. “No?” he said, his voice falling to a murmur. “No, clearly you don’t.”

Before Kagome could puzzle out whether or not to be offended, she felt the feather-light graze of a claw tip trail along the arch of her right foot. The miko gasped, flinching. Heat blazed through her cheeks as she met his stern look.

“S-sorry…”

“This curve,” Sesshoumaru said, as if resuming a lecture, “is exquisitely formed.” Kagome’s blush deepened as he skimmed her arch again, just tantalizingly above the tickling point. “And it tapers perfectly…”

In low, sultry tones, he continued to expound on her feet’s many merits, though Kagome found it increasingly hard to focus on what he was saying with the way he was fondling her from heel to toe. His caress was so warm and solid against the cold emptiness of the air—and growing surer by the second. When in the course of his dissertations his thumb rolled just right in its erotic orbit of her ankle, Kagome bit down on her lip to stifle an unbidden moan.

Sesshoumaru’s eyes snapped to hers as he paused, her toes clasped just before him. Warm breath ghosted over her skin, making her shudder for reasons that had nothing whatsoever to do with the season. Still biting her lip, Kagome felt more than a little light-headed.

That was a convenient enough excuse for her to blurt out, “You can put your mouth on me, if you’d like.”

Sesshoumaru’s slit pupils dilated slightly, the golden surface of his gaze seeming to flicker—though he didn’t so much as blink. It was like a heat shimmer, dark and fleeting. Kagome’s stomach clenched at the sight, the first hot, slick rasp of his tongue along her toe-line making her breath draw dangerously short.

Hotly, her eyes raked over him as he dragged a fang just beneath the edge of her nail. His crimson lids were so hooded they might as well be shut, the fine fey lines of his face gilded by the mid-afternoon glow. He might be the most arrogant creature that had ever lived, but gods help her if he wasn’t the sexiest…

Before Kagome even fully realized what she was doing, her left foot was sliding forward between them, wedging beneath him where he sat. Sesshoumaru’s claws dented her skin as she scooped lightly at the hot, silken heft of his balls before venturing upward along that impressive shaft. Broad and unyielding, he reared against her advance, crushing a groan to her captive toes as her free ones furled over the head of his cock.

“Kagome…”

The way he rumbled her name made Kagome want to pinch herself. In a life built on improbabilities, if someone had offered her a handful of impossible scenarios to choose from, she’d have bet her life that giving her former enemy a foot-job would have been the least likely to have happened. But here she was.

“Don’t stop,” she breathed, kneading over him from base to tip as she urged her other foot past the warm, sculpted parting of his lips. “Take me in your mouth, Sesshoumaru. Please…”

But the urging was hardly necessary—Sesshoumaru’s lips closed hungrily around her as he lay back and hauled her over him, their hips meeting in voluptuous crash that had Kagome reeling. With one thigh curled against him, she ground shamelessly over the hard, clothed length of his bulge as he ravished her toes with his fangs and tongue. In a matter of seconds, she was reaching between them, scrabbling for the ties of his hakama in-between collisions.

She hadn’t had a boyfriend since university, but none of them had made her this wet and frantic. When her hand seized at last around the smooth, burning beam of his sex, she could have cried for joy. Gliding her thumb greedily over the moisture beading his tip, Kagome whimpered, dismayed. Stupid, stupid hakama! With Sesshoumaru going to town on her foot, there was no way she could free herself without breaking the flow.

Then, just as all hope seemed lost, a brilliantly horny idea occurred.

Drawing the clawed hand at her hip forward, Kagome guided his sharp thumb over her swollen clit before curving it down and in, tracing pointedly over the taut, dampened seam of her pants. Somewhere in the fiery maelstrom of his lust, Sesshoumaru got the memo. Like a hot knife through butter, the seam gave beneath the pressure of his claw—the drenched, straining bridge of her panties, also. Kagome groaned with pure, senseless need as her sex steamed in the open air.

Like a woman possessed, she scrambled to mount him, her vision spotting silver as she guided him through the rend in her clothes. The cut fabric ripped around him, her mouth falling open as the first inch of him filled her, and he set his fangs against her foot with a smothered growl.

“Oh, gods,” she choked out, bracing her palms to his chest as she took him deeper, feeling the keenest stab of sympathy for her poor sundered clothes.

He was almost too much to handle—Kagome’s walls stretched to the max as she pistoned down on him one breathless inch at a time, the pulse of his heartbeat inside her hitting her G-spot like a hammer. Then there was the flare of his youki, razing like a live-wire across her senses. Blood flooded from her head to her groin in a rush so dizzying it terrified her.

“Sesshoumaru, I—I think I’m going to pass out…”

With a ragged growl, Sesshoumaru tipped her onto her back in a snowdrift of fur. Kagome gulped down a fortifying draught of air. The fog haloing the edges of her vision cleared—just as he snapped his hips into hers, and Kagome’s sight tunneled all over again. She cried out as he pounded her through the shredded slit in her clothes, her spine arching off the ground so high the muscles of her back began to seize. Pinned aloft against his chest, her legs bent forward between them, giving him as much unhindered access to her as if he were fucking her from behind.

Clasping her foot to his shoulder, Sesshoumaru sank himself into her to the hilt, his voice a gravelly murmur. “…I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Youki crackled in the air around them. Raw and potent, it met her aura in a scintillating crash. Kagome groaned at the delicious friction, nodding helplessly as she weathered his gouging thrusts. Half-constrained by the torn seam of her pants, her clit crushed to the base of his cock, her sanity fast evaporating under the combination of stricture and exposure.

But it was his youki that was unraveling her the most—sharp-edged and smoldering with lust, it boiled through her blood like dark fire, and Kagome knew that she was lost. There was a reason why none of her past boyfriends had ever measured up—a dirty, filthy, unspeakable reason that kept pulling her away from the safety of home and back through the well into these violent, dangerous times.

It was at the core of her old crush on Inuyasha. It was why she’d only ever half-heartedly discouraged Kouga’s flirtations. Why she’d taken on enemies far stronger than herself and plunged headfirst into battle time after time.

Here now, lying on her back being plundered and skewered by perhaps the most powerful, pernicious specimen she’d ever encountered, Kagome could finally admit it to herself: she was so into demons.

“Sesshoumaru…” she rasped, tangling her fingers in the long shimmering fall of his hair. Eyes blearing, she gazed up at the frayed slashes on his face, the fang points peeking past his lips, the swathe of stony, riveted muscle showing through the skewed neck of his haori. “I—I’m going to come so hard…”

Sharply, Sesshoumaru smiled down at her, panting, “I can tell.”

Already she could feel it building, portentous as a gathering storm. Her walls rippled, convulsed, tearing a snarl from Sesshoumaru’s lips. Unsteadily, her reiki flared, as his youki bore down on her with smothering force. Kagome’s eyes squeezed shut, her lips parting in a silent scream.

Kami, help me… was her last coherent thought, before the world seemed to white-out around her.

…

All-consuming bliss coursed through Kagome’s veins. Breathing was just about all she could manage as she started to come down, everything sounding muted beneath the distant ringing in her ears.

Her sex felt so lush, so sublimely lax, as Sesshoumaru rammed into her harder than ever. He was close, Kagome could see it—could feel it, as his youki surged against her. A whimper purred past her lips, her nipples peeking through the slackened hold of her chest bindings and chafing against the cotton of her haori.

“Sesshoumaru,” she murmured, gazing down at the junction of their bodies, so slick with her cum and the beginnings of his that it webbed between them in little glistening garlands of moisture. Pearly-white, they stringed along the length of his flushed-red cock. “Sesshoumaru…come on my feet—I want you to. Paint my toes for me, please.”

Sesshoumaru stilled, gazing down at her with an expression so feverish and manic it rocked her to the core. His eyes flashed red as he pulled out of her and pulled her up to him in one swift movement. His mouth crushed to hers, so harsh and unrelenting Kagome really thought she would faint—but only for a moment. Easing back, he growled against her lips in sheer satiation, the jets of his cum spurting hot and thick over the tops of her feet, running in little rivulets down to her toes.

Breathing heavily, Kagome braced her forehead against his chest as she looked down, amazed at just how thoroughly he’d glazed her. He must really have been feeling pent-up—but then again, so had she.

As the orgasmic tempest of his youki subsided, Sesshoumaru drew back from her and tipped up her chin. “Do you still think I owe you, miko?”

“In the spirit of the season,” she whispered back, her lashes lowering as her lips skirted his, “I’ll let you off the hook, for now.”

…

A few hours later, Kagome returned to the twilit village, wondering vaguely if she’d ever walk right again.

The foremost of her concerns, however, was for the gaping tear in her hakama, which she was currently praying to the gods no one would notice in the dim evening light. Every little draft that hit her very exposed—and still very flushed and tender—folds stoked her with fresh alarm. Not to mention the fabric was still clingy and chilly from her hasty, last-second scrubbing. Her initial attempts to do so had been diabolically interrupted, when Sesshoumaru had slipped into the hot spring after her and taken her unawares from behind.

Kagome’s cheeks flamed at the memory. A very Merry Christmas to me…

Walking as fast she could with her thighs clamped together, she felt her spine tense in dread as she passed by Sango and Miroku’s place, only to find her former taijiya friend pacing out on the porch with a fussy baby in arms. It was the worst possible scenario—Sango’s keen eyes didn’t miss a beat.

Smiling tiredly, Sango waved. Act natural, Kagome thought anxiously, as she plastered on an answering smile and waved back.

“Hi, Sango-chan!”

“Kagome-chan, you’re out late.”

“Ah, yeah…the herbs were tricky to track down this time.” The miko shrugged as best she could with her basket shielding her crotch. “Winter and all.”

“Mm,” Sango said, the little knit in her brows making Kagome’s blood pressure spike. “But, Kagome-chan…what happened to your nails? Your pretty winter polish—I thought it was supposed to last for days?”

Kagome’s stomach sank through her feet—

The one, terribly obvious thing she hadn’t considered.

“Um,” she said with a nervous chuckle, “about that…”

 

 

the end ❄

---

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi

Written for SessKag Smutmas Day 12 (Free Day) – the theme I picked was ‘fetish’ 😉

💕