Hirokin broke the surface of the pool, only feeling slightly more invigorated than when he’d first plunged in. This was his private spring, within his private wing of the Western palace. Beautiful and serene with its glittering blue stalagmites of crystal, its mirrorlike waters and luminescent vining flowers. An oasis all his own.

Most importantly, it was secluded. Strong magic veiled this place. Hirokin had spelled the wards to alert him to those few trespassers who’d not be repulsed by the barrier altogether.

During his convalescence, such solitude had been invaluable to him. The last thing he needed were prying eyes, false words of concern to soften barbed remarks. He had work to do, as always. Thrashing him to within an inch of his life had not lessened Sesshoumaru’s demands upon him.

And so it was with no small amount of infuriation that Hirokin discovered, as he returned from the spring to his study, that he was not alone.

There was no youki here that he could detect. No scent, sound or glimpse whatsoever. Yet somehow he felt the impression of a presence, if only for the subtle shift it had engendered in the atmosphere about him, like a current displaced. Hirokin’s eyes narrowed, blue and searing.

“Show yourself,” he said with icy venom, “and you might yet get to keep your cock.”

At the sound of a feminine laugh, Hirokin stiffened. He turned. The sound had come from behind him, yet the presence remained as invisible as before. 

“Guess I had nothing to fear,” Kagome said, as she materialized with a glimmer.

She stood with her back to him, before a wall of shelves stacked with books and oddments, crystals and amulets and a myriad of glinting contraptions. She eyed this collection with obvious fascination. Even to her ignorant gaze, it was an impressive array of rare treasures.

Hirokin crossed his arms, peering at her in turn. “How did you get in here?”

His disgruntled tone masked perfectly his genuine curiosity. From her lofty tower and its skyborne grounds, there should have been no escape for one such as her—into this ensorcelled sanctum of his, or any other. Kagome glanced back at him. The glint in her eye was pure deviousness.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Later, Hirokin would wish he’d pressed her beyond this impish deflection. But when she’d turned to glance back at him, he’d noticed then the boy at her breast. Catching sight of Hirokin as well, Saitou left off the nipple he’d been bloodying and attempted to lunge.

“No you don’t—ow!” 

Kagome winced as her son scratched her in his struggling. Even as a babe, he was fast becoming too strong for her to physically subdue. Gliding forward, Hirokin took the feisty pup into the crook of his arm. Saitou settled there at once, his fur curving contentedly around him. Hirokin smiled down at him, slight and sharp. He ground his knuckle into the boy’s hard forehead, making him growl.

“Now, now, little prince,” Hirokin said chidingly, as Saitou’s golden eyes began to cross. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Hirokin!”

Impassively, he looked to her, knuckling the boy still. “Yes, my lady?”

“Stop it.”

Hirokin stopped. Saitou tossed his head with a huff. At his playful snap and pounce, Kagome frowned.

“I can’t get used to it, how tough he is. Human babies aren’t like that.” She set her hands on her hips. “Demon or not, why is it that guys like bullying kids so much?”

Hirokin shrugged. When he saw a child, his first thought was to tease them. Especially a pup as precocious as this one. By now, Saitou had caught hold of Hirokin’s hand and was tugging it toward him.

“He wants to bite you,” Kagome warned.

Lightly, Hirokin snorted. “Who doesn’t?”

He let the boy chew his hand. Fierce and growling as they were, the chomps of Saitou’s milk fangs didn’t so much as break the skin. Kagome’s gaze was flat.

“That doesn’t even hurt you, does it?”

“Not at all,” Hirokin replied.

Pursing her lips, Kagome glanced aside. “…Maybe ‘bullying’ wasn’t the right word.”

Hirokin studied in profile her faraway look, which seemed to him to be gazing into the past. Another child, another husband. Both equally beyond her reach.

With his little fangs still latched to Hirokin’s wrist, Saitou began to drowse. It was incredible, the strange attitudes in which children could sleep. At his age, Hirokin might rest an hour a day, and never easily. Not even upon bedding as smooth and dense as liquid silk, not even when his ravaged body screamed for the release of oblivion to alleviate its many hurts.

In this way, Hirokin extended his torment.

Kagome’s eyes strayed back to him. As if just now noting the brand of suffering upon him, she said, “You look rough. I’d have thought you’d be healed by now.”

It was Hirokin’s turn to deflect, as he whisked himself off with the dozing babe. Past ribbons of silver stream that sliced through the stone floor, he passed through an illusory fall of iridescent spray. The grotto beyond glowed with dappled blue light, like sunrays filtered through a clear and tranquil sea. Kagome followed him across the powdered white sand of the alcove, to the lush, sheening jade cushions of seafoam into which he settled his lord’s sleeping son.

As he released the boy, Saitou stirred awake and began to whine. By his side, Hirokin knelt, holding out his palm. Gathering above it, the diaphanous mists shaped themselves into a orrery of sorts, a glittering assembly of moons, worlds and stars. With a swirl of youki, Hirokin set this celestial rendering adrift, to revolve slowly above the boy’s wide, wondering eyes, and lull him to sleep once again.

“You spoil him,” Kagome said, shaking her head.

“Of course,” Hirokin replied, his eyes slanting to her. “I am not his father.”

Kagome considered this as she gazed about, at the floating motes of sapphire that sparkled in the air, the golden sunburst baubles and ruby spines of coral that dotted the shimmering sands. “This place suits you.”

Hirokin inclined his head. He’d done the best he could to shape these land-locked quarters to his liking. For centuries, he’d had plans to build a true palace of his own aesthetic, here in the capitol. A river-borne abode set like a jewel at the crest of the southern falls. But these plans had long been deferred. Perhaps if Sesshoumaru would ever take more of an interest in governing, Hirokin would find the time to indulge in such idle pursuits.

But this seemed unlikely.

“Stay as long as you like, my lady,” Hirokin said as he swept past her, returning to the main chamber of the study.

Yet Kagome pursued him.

“If I didn’t know any better,” she said dryly, “I’d think you were trying to brush me off. And here I went to all this trouble to come and see you.”

“And so you have.”

Kagome stopped behind him. Hirokin continued on his way, summoning missives to him as he went. He could feel her squinting into his back.

“You’re pissed at me, aren’t you? You blame me for the beat-down Sesshoumaru gave you.”

Hirokin halted. Dissolving the scroll he’d been skimming, he turned back to her. “No, my lady. Not in the slightest.”

Arms crossed, Kagome glowered at him. “You blame me for something, though. Why else have you stayed holed-up here, where you thought I couldn’t reach you? I’ll bet if you’d known beforehand I was paying you a visit, you’d have slithered off somewhere else.”

Hirokin’s look cooled. “It might come as some surprise to you, Kagome-sama, but I have more pressing concerns than serving as your plaything.”

“Well,” she said, smiling snidely, “you could have fooled me.”

Hirokin strode toward her, wrenching open the collar of his robes. From chest to navel, he showed her a swathe of his battered torso, which made his abraded face seem as nothing. His jeweled scales were cracked and clouded, his pearly flesh translucent in places, showing the fissures in his sternum, the red glowing gouts of blood that yet clotted within him where they shouldn’t. Unfurling his aura, he let her feel how his beleaguered youki strained to hold himself together, in the wake of one of the worst beatings of his life.

“Does this sight please you, my lady?” he asked acidly, as she stared. “You wished to ogle at me being laid low, did you not? Take your look then, and leave me be.”

Kagome’s eyes rose to his. “Hirokin, what did you do?”

His jaw clenched as he set his robes to rights. He had transgressed in a way he could not precisely frame. Yet he knew that he had. More than the offending touch, it was that fell discovery which had done him in, he suspected.

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied to her. “Truly, my lady,” he said, gesturing smoothly toward the door as he bowed, “there is much I must attend to.”

At this courtly dismissal, her gaze hardened, darkened. “Like I give a fuck,” she shot back.

Turning upon her heel, she stalked away, stepping up onto the dais where his desk lay, abounding in ink stones and sealing wax and piles of scrolls uncounted. As briskly as she’d crossed over to it, she swept the desk clear. Primly, she seated herself upon its edge, as its erstwhile contents fluttered and crashed to the floor. Her dangling legs cracked open, the pale sliver of a calf showing through the slit in her dress.

“Are you going to man-up and come to me now, or keep sulking around like a prissy little bitch?” 

Hirokin glared. In an instant he was before her, appearing in a rush of mist so swift and chill it caused her reiki to flare on instinct. Heedless, he pressed into her, forcing her legs to spread around him. Even from where he stood on the floor below the dais, he yet loomed above her. His sharp nails bit into the lacquered wood beside her hips. Detaching one hand, he brought it to her naked knee, sliding it up to bare her thigh to him completely, as he clasped the side of her throat.

“It is early still to say,” he murmured, looking down into her blue, stormy eyes with grim and fatalistic reverence, “but you might be the worst thing that has ever happened to me.”

The corner of her lips twitched as she fisted her hands in the front of his robes. “Gods, Hirokin. You’re such a drama queen.”

He kissed her then, holding still to her throat, to her thigh. There was no deepening to this kiss. It was an open-mouthed freefall from the start. He groaned at the plunging sweep of her tongue, and so did she. When she cut herself on the edges of his teeth, he hissed as her reiki cut into him in turn. His fangs distended, dripping with venom which sizzled away in the sultry heat of her mouth.

Gripping her naked hip, he hauled her to him. Their clothed centers clashed together at the edge of the desk. Kagome wriggled like an eel in his grasp, trying to get herself off on the friction, grating her nub against the bulge of his half-hard cock. Heavily, Hirokin breathed. He was really in no state to be fucking, but tell that to the blood rushing headlong to engorge him. He felt lightheaded, painfully fatigued. He tasted copper in his mouth, which he swallowed down ruefully as he crushed his lips to hers again.

If I die like this, then so be it, he thought feverishly, as he freed himself and pulled her twisted kimono aside. 

She was impossibly wet on his cock as he surged inside her. Like it was her life’s blood that was threatening to gush out of her, as he forged his way into her soft, sweltering depths. He’d scarcely settled into her, scarcely slicked his balls against the desktop where her wetness had pooled, when she began to spasm around him. 

“Already, my lady?” Hirokin rasped with a smirk. “You did miss me.”

Mistily, Kagome glared up at him. When she shoved what felt like half her burning hand into his mouth, he choked, unhinged. Viciously he thrust against the orgasmic shudders wracking through the living sheath of her. While she fucked his mouth, he fucked her cunt so hard he drove the heavy desk back into the wall with a smash and keening scrape. Then he was on his knees on the dais, pounding into her, bowing her back with the force. In a dizzying race between coming and fainting, he heard her crying out in ragged, half-formed swears.

When his vision whited-out, he wasn’t sure at first which blissful rush had overtaken him. By degrees, he realized his cock was seizing and spilling, gratuitously flooding her inundated core. Lying flushed and sprawled across the desk, Kagome looked as dazed as he felt. The skewed sash of her kimono was all that held it to her. A glistening strip of her flesh was exposed from collar to cunt. Cloven so deeply by him, her sex visibly throbbed, swollen and blushing as her parted lips, and glazed so thickly around him it seemed he was fused to her in truth.

“…This desk is damned uncomfortable,” she mumbled, after a minute. “Isn’t there somewhere better we can rest?”

Faintly, Hirokin nodded. With care he rose from his stiff kneel, hoisting her up along with him. She was light in his arms, light as he remembered, as he carried her with him into his bedroom.

If there were an inner sanctum to his inner sanctum, it would be this. He never suffered the bitches he bedded to darken its door, let alone share his actual bed. Not even Kou had slept here, though he had once trespassed with the intention. But Hirokin would not think of Kou. Not now.

Carefully, he laid Kagome down against the silken sheets, as carefully as he’d lifted her up from the desk. He kept her hips angled slightly, so that his seed wouldn’t leak from her. Frivolous or not, he liked the idea of her holding it in. He undid her sash, stripped her disheveled kimono away. With hooded eyes, she watched him remove his clothes as well, revealing his naked form. What he would let her see of it, at any rate, as he held his mangled body away from her view. Her cool touch skimmed along his twisted spine.

“You’re so vain,” she said. 

“I’m in shambles,” Hirokin said shortly. “Though I forced it upon you earlier, truth be told, I’d rather not afflict you with the sight.”

“You could have all your limbs hacked off and half your face burned away and you’d still be beautiful.”

“Pray don’t give Sesshoumaru-sama the idea.”

Kagome scoffed. “I make it a rule to talk to him as little as possible. All we do is argue when we speak.” As Hirokin’s brow creased at this, she said wryly, “But if it means you’ll fuck me like that again, maybe I’ll put in a word. He’s been in high spirits since he beat the shit out of you. I can’t say it hasn’t done you any favors, either. Seems like you really wanted it this time.”

“What makes you think I haven’t before?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she drawled, “maybe the fact that you’re a flaming homosexual?”

“A flaming homosexual,” Hirokin repeated, dull and leaden. 

What a phrase.

“Well, not so flaming, really,” Kagome amended. Turning over onto her side, she propped up her chin in her hand. “Especially compared to this other guy who had the hots for Sesshoumaru. Now he was a trip.”

Hirokin cut her a look. Her use of past tense in reference to this fellow was both reassuring and not. 

“Trust me, my lady, if you could see how much I’ve grit my teeth trysting with other females, you wouldn’t question my desire for you.”

“I know you desire me, as an entity.” She gave a vague, circular wave of her hand. “I was talking specifically about my cunt.”

Her coarseness grated, as ever. Yet not unpleasurably so. Hirokin’s mouth twisted at his own perverseness, as the beginnings of a headache lanced behind his eyes.

“There is no separating it from you.”

“Well, I guess that sums it up.”

Hirokin glanced down at her. “My lady, you should rest.”

“I’d like to, but you won’t lie down.”

Hirokin lay down on his side, facing her. Her lashes were already dipping above her shadowed eyes. Though he hadn’t paid mind to it before, now he could see how deeply tired she was. He could hazard a guess that their hasty fuck wasn’t the cause of it.

As he drew her to him, she curled to his chest. “Sesshoumaru is seeking out a wet nurse for Saitou.” Her words were terse, muffled. “He claims my milk isn’t good enough. But I’m his mother—how can it not be good enough? What he really wants is to separate us.”

“I warned you that he would.”

Kagome’s fists balled beneath her chin. “I hate him. I really do. He doesn’t even care about having another child. He just wants to have power over me, just like you said.”

“If you would give in to him, even a little, he wouldn’t feel so compelled to take.”

“I’ve given him plenty,” Kagome said bitterly, and Hirokin knew that saying anything more would be pointless.

At her stubborn defiance, the beginnings of dread took root within him, though he would not become conscious of this until later. For the present, he was concerned only with calming her down. To this end, he combed his fingers through her tousled hair, whose imperfect smoothness he had come to appreciate for its novelty. Extracting the tangled pins that were no doubt stabbing into her, Hirokin tisked. Tangled or not, the positioning of the ornaments was abysmal.

“Who arranged these?” he demanded. 

“I did.”

“Well,” he muttered, “that’s unfortunate.”

“Why?”

“I’d thought to have them hooked through the heels and hung from the highest tower.”

Kagome snickered. “That bad, huh?”

“One with gouged eyes could hardly do worse.”

As the last pin pinged across the stones, Hirokin soothed his youki-cooled nails against her scalp. With heavy-lidded eyes, Kagome sighed.

“Mm…you’re so good at that.”

Here in his room, in his bed, it was easy now for Hirokin to fantasize. To imagine rousing her in the mornings, with his hands, his mouth, his cock. To imagine bathing and dressing her after. Nothing would pass her lips that he hadn’t scrutinized. No paint or polish would touch her but that he applied it to her himself. He would arrange her hair too, of course, every strand. She would be so radiantly lovely after he was finished with her that no one would question but that she was the work of his hands. Who else but he could fashion a goddess from such crude clay? And in the evenings, he would lay her down just like this, earthy and bare and ripe to be sowed.

To bear for him the progeny he craved. A legion of Hanames…

As she drifted off, Hirokin closed his eyes. He didn’t expect to sleep, not in such an unusual manner of repose. Yet when he opened his eyes again, he realized he must have slept for an hour at least, for the light had changed. This surprised him.

He was surprised most of all at how refreshed he felt. He knew then that he had slept deeply, deeply enough for his body to have mended against his will. The cracks in his bones had sealed. His organs had ceased their sluggish hemorrhaging. Though he still felt weak, he was much improved. Hirokin rubbed his temples in chagrin.

Against his chest Kagome still lay sleeping. Her dark hair tumbled warm and waving down his shoulder. A thin blanket of insulating mist clung to them. Through the glittering skeins of it, her sooty lashes trembled, beaded and sparkling. He didn’t need to invade her thoughts to know of whom she dreamt. The one upon whom her thoughts constantly revolved, whether she professed to ‘hate him’ or not.

But Hirokin was not dismayed. Not by this at any rate. It was when her eyes fluttered open that his heart sank. Drawn into her blue gaze, softened and darkened inexorably by sleep, he felt what it must be like to drown. Fathomlessly, she closed over him. Though he could not gauge its depth, he yet sensed the great and terrible immensity of his love for her, and despaired.

“What’s wrong?” she asked him groggily.

Clearing the frown from his face with effort, he replied, “Nothing, my lady.”

“…Saitou,” she murmured, as though in question.

Hirokin listened for a moment. “Still sleeping,” he replied.

Kagome nodded. “Good. He’s been restless lately. I think he’s picked up on my stress.” Rolling over, she took her warmth with her. “I’m hungry,” she complained. “Thirsty, too.”

Water was trivial enough to provide. As for food, Hirokin fetched her what he could, not certain the wafer he offered her was something she could eat. She eyed it skeptically, holding it above her head. Nibbling the edge, she screwed up her face and tossed it away.

“Ugh, so salty! How can you stand it?”

“Among my kind, that’s considered a delicacy. Here, my lady, try this.”

He handed her a glittering wedge of candied fruit, which she bit into with a grimace of premeditated distaste. But her curdled expression eased as she chewed.

“Very sweet,” she said, “but edible at least.” As she finished off the wedge and accepted another, she asked, “Aren’t you going to eat something too?”

Hirokin’s glance slid aside. “I’m not hungry.”

“You look hungry. When was the last time you ate?” When he didn’t reply, her look mid-bite turned severe. “You really have been dragging this whole woe-is-me thing out, haven’t you?” Giving him a scathing once-over, she said, “But you seem a bit better than you did. So I’m taking credit.” Sitting up, she pressed the half-nibbled fruit wedge to his lips. “Now, eat.”

Grudgingly, Hirokin opened his mouth. He took the candied fruit from her with great reluctance, though the gleaning scrape of his tongue against her fingers was anything but. He pretended to do this incidentally as she withdrew, but it was the shallowest of ruses. Her eyes kindled as she kept her features schooled nonetheless. Hirokin barely tasted the overly-sweet morsel as he chewed and swallowed it down.

Kagome rose from the bed. On padding footsteps, she wandered about his sleeping chamber. Torn between calling her back to him and not, he watched his cum thread down her inner thighs in a lacework of trickling pearl. He wondered if it was her own brimming wetness forcing out his spend at last. It was a suspicion that gathered strength as she crouched before a particular chest. With a casualness nothing short of feigned, she unlatched it and raised the lid. If he’d had illusions she’d not invaded his rooms prior to his discovery of her, those illusions were duly shattered.

“Hm, what’s this?”

Turning back to him, she held in her hand an object which made him recoil viscerally, if not visibly. It was a phallus, thick and long and ivory-colored. A length of milky crystal which weighed heavy in her hands as she padded back to him and knelt in the sheets beside him.

“It looks vaguely familiar,” she said, eyeing the tapered tip. 

Despite himself, Hirokin flushed, clapping a hand to his face. “…Damn you, Kagome.”

“Hey now, don’t be a spoil-sport.” She leveled the girthy phallus at him. “Do you really think I’d read into this?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“Okay, well. Do you think it’d change my opinion of you in some way? I mean, we both know you love cock.” Through the slats in his fingers, he saw her wiggle it at him. “So, show me.”

“Show you what?”

“Show me how much you love it.”

Hirokin’s eyes darkened at her. Snatching the hovering phallus, he held it to his mouth. His breath misted against the cool stone.

“Is this what you want to see, my lady?” he asked her huskily.

Kagome nodded. Making herself comfortable, she reclined upon the bed as he let his tongue flick out to skim the carved indentation in the tip. Her nipples were hard, he saw, as he teased his tongue over the smoothly flared crest. From the raptness of her expression, he realized she was studying him. This gave him a certain smug thrill, as he closed his lips over the cold crystalline cockhead and began to suck it.

“Fuck, that’s sexy,” she murmured, squeezing her thighs together. “I’ll bet he enjoys it.”

The ‘he’ was subjective, Hirokin supposed. He took the phallus in deeper, relaxing his jaw, opening his throat to receive it. As he swallowed it to the rounded base, Kagome was enthralled.

“Hirokin,” she rasped out, “I love watching you take it.”

His own hard cock pulsed at the praise. The contractions of his throat rippled around the stone phallus, juddering it for her to see. Kagome scooted toward him, placing her hand to the base. She rammed it into him without mercy, and Hirokin relished it. His throat distended, his airway crushed. He could feel his eyes glazing over as his cock began to weep from the goring of his mouth. His balls drew up, perilously tight at his smothering.

“You’re so much better at this than me,” she admitted. “I try, but you’re the best, no question. Gods, what a good suck you are.”

Hirokin preened, grabbing at her full hips. He wanted to bury himself in her, to heighten his pleasure and stoke hers. But Kagome shied away from him. In a brutal wrench, she wrested the glistening phallus from his throat.

“Now,” she said savagely, “you watch me.”

Hirokin watched as she speared the slickened tip into the furrow between her legs. Watched as she fucked herself with his own slickness, watched as she took partway to the hilt that crystalline length which so mirrored her husband’s. Hirokin watched this with envy, with ill-tempered fascination. 

“It’s just a fake cock,” he said to her irritably.

“But it feels so good. It feels like it was made for me.”

Hirokin was livid, not least of all for the obvious fact he had made this phallus for himself. Sullenly, he watched as she pumped it in and out of her, a gloating circuit. As if she were taunting him with how singularly-suited this cock was to her cunt. She gushed and moaned at its stretching stab. Hirokin seethed.

“What,” she teased, “jealous?”

“Give it to me.”

“Why should I?”

“Because it’s mine.”

“Yours,” she challenged. “Well, if it’s yours, then make it yours.”

Hirokin took the phallus from her. With his youki he froze it to the stone floor. He mounted it then, as he had so many times in his private pleasure. With the fluidity of his insides, he engulfed it, feeling its hard length spearing into him, so much deeper than she could take it. So much deeper and more pleasurably than anyone could take it. Kagome sat up on her haunches as he fucked himself on the riveted cock.

“Oh, Hirokin,” she moaned, and he could see between the splay of her thighs how she seeped at the sight of him so speared. “Ride it, please. Ride it hard.”

Hirokin rode the crystalline cock, as vehemently as he’d ever ridden Kou’s. Perhaps more so, for the cock was unfeeling, frozen into place. Forever punishingly erect for him. His stomach clenched as it ravaged him, but he was uncaring. Reckless, needing only to be filled. Kagome stared at him, enamored.

“Gods, if only I could fuck you,” she breathed as she moved toward him, mounted him. He felt her hot channel close over his cock, and it was like his last breath was wrested out of him. She threw back her head as she sank down on him to the limit of what she could bear. “Give it to me, give it to me as good as you’re getting.”

Hirokin rared, fucking her as rapaciously as he fucked himself. She bounced in his lap, wide-open and lax. He grabbed at her hips, spread her ass apart as he rammed into her with the same vehemence with which he impaled himself. His pleasure mounted frenziedly, as she took his face in her hands, as she angled it back so passionately only to spit in his mouth.

Hirokin lurched so violently at this he almost unseated her. It was so filthy, so degrading. A stroke he felt in the pit of his being, more vitally than any other insult could penetrate. He was coming before he even fully realized it, thrusting up into her blazing depths, giving it to her as good as he got.

---

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi

Months ago, while I was still finishing up Control, I imagined a smutty trilogy of these HxK ‘toy chest’ fics, including this one and A Gilded Cage. That means there’s one more left to go 😉

<3

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