Chie: Written for the PMO Launch Day Event.
Inspired by a scene in Lisa Kleypas' book Devil in Winter.
* * *
It was ironic, Kagome thought with wry amusement bubbling through the haze of pain, that in spite of all the close calls, kidnappings, battles and other miscellaneous life-threatening shenanigans she’d stumbled into during all her adventures here in the Feudal era, that this was finally the moment she knew for certain that she would die.
She’d crossed paths with an errant snake youkai who’d thought to have made a meal of her. Kagome had quickly dispatched all such notions with a deadly, reiki infused arrow that she’d nocked and drawn and released with practised ease. The snake demon had shrieked in fury and pain as it crumbled into dust. The day had been saved, Kagome had once again escaped from being eaten and life went on as normal.
It wasn’t until a few hours later that a dull throbbing ache in her arm had distracted her from checking and setting the traps.
It had been all downhill from there.
Now her arm was a blazing agony. Her heart was beating too quickly and the world dimmed as she fought to fill her lungs with air. Shivers racked her body, her muscles sore all over as she lay in the grass, panting. And in her veins, her blood was burning as the venom spread from the snake bite she hadn’t even noticed until it had been too late.
She'd tried to purify it as soon as she’d realised what was happening, but the venom was too strong, too widespread. Now, she’d grown too weak and her thoughts were scattered from the unbearable pain. What little energy she had left was all focused on fighting for her next laboured breath, fighting to keep the darkness hovering at the edge of her vision at bay. But the threatening blackness was unyielding, gaining new ground every second.
Until, at last, it swallowed her.
***
Kagome came to with a scream tearing out of her ravaged throat. It died into brittle whimpers as the fangs that had bitten into her wounded arm wrenched free and the flesh gave away. Her poisoned blood rushed out in a crimson river. Something trickled into this new wound, searing her like acid.
There was a buzzing in her brain, already muddled by the ceaseless torrents of pain, but somehow over the endless seconds of her body burning, she managed to make sense of what she was seeing.
A cold glare of golden eyes, white-silver hair nearly blinding in the sunlight and a pair of lips, pressed thin and stained with blood.
A single word wobbled to the surface of her wrought mind.
Sesshoumaru.
Minutes felt like days, following one another in succession that stretched into years. And then, slowly, though her mind remained fuzzy and her body frail and aching, her breath started to come easier. Her heartbeat began to slow.
Greedily, she drew in air and parted her lips. Her voice was wobbly and faint, even to her own ears, but she still managed to speak one word.
“Ow.”
Sesshoumaru’s eyes flashed and narrowed. His scowl grew darker, his bloodstained mouth grimmer.
“How is it, Miko,” he drawled, his voice colder than ice, “that you always find yourself in such predicaments?”
“Luck,” she croaked, then focused on breathing and staying alive.
“Indeed,” he muttered glumly. “It is a miracle you have not perished.”
Her lips drew into a smile. It hurt, but then again, what didn’t?
“Funny,” she told him.
“Not even remotely,” he rebutted, glaring at her.
“Is too,” she panted slowly. “A little.”
Sesshoumaru’s lips drew back to show a glittering grimace of sharp fangs. His eyes bled red and his youki burst out, explosive like a mushroom cloud of doom.
Kagome winced as the dark energy buffeted her, biting at her already raw skin like a strong winter chill. A whimper escaped as the pain grew more intense until she wasn’t sure how much longer she could bear it.
Somewhere, deep down inside, in a place she’d already thought lost, something stirred. A jolt pulsed through her body like an electric shock. Her spine snapped straight. Warmth flooded her, bright and burning, coursing through her veins like a tidal wave.
Kagome did not know how long she burned bright like a beacon, but slowly the power ebbed away, subsiding once again under her control. Her breathing was shallow and laboured as she stared at the blue sky above. She felt like her bones had melted. As if she’d just run a marathon. All wrung dry and aching — but it was a good ache. The kind that proved she was alive.
And it would seem she would stay that way.
She met Sesshoumaru’s eyes. He was staring down at her, his face now as impassive as always. The impression was somewhat marred by the fact that her blood was still staining his lips. He was no longer glaring at her but instead eyed her critically. Then, he nodded.
“I believe you managed to purify all the poison.”
“You think?” Kagome replied. If that uncontrolled torrent of reiki hadn’t been enough to do the job, she didn’t think anything could have.
Grunting with effort, her arms weak and sore and throbbing with pain, she sat up. Her head swam a little from sheer fatigue and she rather felt like she’d just been run over by a procession of seven cargo trains… But she was going to make it.
She was pretty sure.
Sesshoumaru sniffed in haughty derision. Then, without another word, he turned and started to walk away.
Kagome stared at his retreating back, idly wondering how long it would take until she could risk trying to stand. And more importantly, what on earth had his whole intervention been about?
***
It had been a full month, and he could still taste a tantalising echo of her blood, as unshakeable as an itch under his skin.
He really should stop saving the miko from the perilous situations she all too often found herself in. Nothing good could possibly come from it. And this latest valiant rescue had been the worst mistake to this day. Why was it that he could not have let her die?
Now, he knew her taste. And having had her blood coat his tongue, it was even harder to keep these traitorous thoughts, these unwelcome emotions at bay.
Just the other day, when visiting Edo to see Rin, he'd caught himself staring at the miko. He had been wholly unaware of the way his gaze kept tracking her movements until she had met his eyes, brows raised in a question. And for a fleeting second, before he had turned away, something perilously close to longing had pricked his chest.
The miko had always been trouble. Since the moment they had first met, she had been impossible to ignore. An enigmatic creature. Bold, slipping at times towards reckless, she had pulled out his father’s fang and survived his attack. Since then, she had always met him head-on, heedless of her personal safety or common courtesy. In short, unlike so many others, Sesshoumaru could not simply dismiss the miko. It should have been infuriating, yet for some reason, anger was rarely the first emotion that bubbled underneath the surface when he thought of her.
Rather, it was a whole Gordian knot of feelings too tangled and complex to decipher had he even wanted to do so. But the occasional glimpses he got now and then — things like admiration or desire — made him want to turn his back on the entire thing and never look back.
It did not matter if the taste of her blood beckoned him. It did not matter that he always seemed aware of her presence to a disturbing degree. It did not matter that sometimes he dreamed of the miko, flushed and tousled and splayed on his futon. Most of all, it did not matter that deep down inside burned a ceaseless yearning he did his best to ignore — as he’d done for a year now.
Sesshoumaru was not a lust-crazed animal. He refused to succumb to these base urges. Not because of any sense of superiority he might ascribe to the act itself. Sex was a natural thing and something he enjoyed on rare occasions. But because the object of this perplexing ardour was the miko — a human — it was simply unthinkable.
He already had one human in his life that he cared for and that was outlandish enough. But then again, Rin was easy to like. She was but a child, so fragile and dependent on him. So unconditional in the love and respect she heaped on him that it was impossible to remain unaffected under such an onslaught. The miko, however… to care for her, to harbour respect towards her no matter how begrudging, to feel this incessant attraction… Were he to acknowledge these wholly inappropriate feelings, he would be forced to acknowledge the miko. Not as he’d once acknowledged Rin, as someone in need of his care and protection, but as his equal.
Such a ludicrous thing could never be.
***
If there had been a life lesson buried in her recent near-death experience — other than that snake demons were sneaky little bitches and that Sesshoumaru worked in mysterious ways — it was that if there was something Kagome wanted, she might as well go for it. Because life was short, and if you were Higurashi Kagome, it could very well be even shorter.
She was self-aware enough to admit that she had a real penchant for trouble.
Right now, as she was rooted to her spot in the shadow of the tree, watching as Sesshoumaru stood in her favourite bathing pond, she probably was in trouble once again. But this time she didn’t mind. His upper body was bare, the pale perfection of his broad shoulders and his leanly muscled back glistening in the silver moonlight that caught in the water droplets peppering his skin. His toned arms were wringing the wealth of his hair dry. His face was mesmerising in profile, the line of his jaw, the relief of his cheekbones, the elegant features and hooded eyes stirring something deep inside. The basket she was carrying, packed with her soaps and towels and bathing supplies, was quite forgotten now, as was the longing for the private, refreshing wash up that had driven her out to the pond this late in the evening.
Now, Kagome was longing for something else entirely.
Raptly, Kagome watched as Sesshoumaru turned and began to wade towards the shore. Her breath was caught in her throat and her heart raced, the quick beats as loud as thunder in her ears.
When he stepped onto the grass, Sesshoumaru’s head snapped up and he noticed her. Awareness hummed in the air, stretching between them as their eyes met across the distance. For a fraction of a second, heat flashed in those familiar golden depths, and she knew. From deep in the pit of her stomach where something was stirring, a recognition spread, speeding down her veins like liquid fire.
She wanted. And she wasn’t the only one.
A smile crooked Kagome’s lips, and she began to walk towards him, putting an extra sway to her hips.
“Fancy meeting you here,” she greeted him, stopping to stand a few yards from him.
“Indeed,” he replied, glaring at her.
Kagome blinked at the underlying venom in that single word. What was his problem?
“Glad you’re so happy to see me. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy,” she said dryly.
Sesshoumaru scowled at her. “I had hoped — in vain, it appears — that you would have managed to grow some sense at last, Miko. But you must be a lost cause.”
“What do you mean?”
"It hasn't been six weeks since I saved you from the brink of death, yet here you are again. Out and about, late in the evening. Alone."
The last word had been close to a growl, yet Kagome’s shoulders eased.
"You saved me from the venom," she acknowledged, "but the snake demon was long dead by the time I realised I'd been bit. I'm not as helpless as you think."
His words were clipped and haughty as he gave her his verdict. "You are just a human."
"Not quite." Kagome smiled, and reached into the basket propped against her hip. "Sure, I'm human. But there's no just about it. I'm a miko, and I came prepared."
Reiki surged in the air without a warning. Moonlight gilded the glowing metal as it cleaved the air.
The dagger Kagome had thrown still crackled with the residue of her reiki when it sank into the ground, a hairbreadth away from Sesshoumaru’s bare toes. He snatched back his foot when her power leapt out and zapped him.
"My aim is quite good these days," Kagome told him cheerfully. "I've been practising."
Sesshoumaru stared down at the dagger with narrowed eyes, but when his gaze flicked to her his earlier scowl had disappeared.
"You have made your point, Miko," he said, his expression carefully blank.
"No, I'm making it now," Kagome said. "I'm out here, alone, because I came to bathe. It’s not an activity that needs an audience."
Silence sparked between them, and the recognition from earlier sang in every beat of Kagome’s heart. She met his stare and saw the hunger that lurked within. Her lips quirked.
"But I guess I'll make an exception for you."
For an instant, that blank mask on his face turned to shock.
"Have you lost what feeble sanity you have left?" Sesshoumaru said, his voice colder than she’d ever heard him.
Kagome laughed. "No, I feel perfectly fine."
He stared at her in disbelief, and more laughter bubbled in Kagome’s chest. She felt light and bright and completely herself.
Sesshoumaru, in contrast, seemed to be at a loss, and Kagome couldn’t help but to rattle him further, grinning with mirth and mischief.
"You could join me. I'll let you wash my back," she teased.
Sesshoumaru’s hand flexed. "What makes you think I have any desire to do so?"
Kagome laughed. "Oh come on, Sesshoumaru, don't be coy. I've seen the way you look at me."
"I do not know what you mean," he replied, his spine stiff as he avoided her gaze.
"Yes," she said, slowly and emphatically, "you do."
His response came swiftly and in a growl. "Why would I look at you in any other manner save for pity? You are only human."
Steel glinted in Kagome’s eyes. Ah. There was that pesky word again, hurled at her like an insult. She truly could not let the matter lie now, not after this gauntlet he'd just thrown at her feet.
Slowly, deliberately, Kagome bent to set the basket down at her feet. She felt the weight of his gaze on her as she straightened again and held her head up high.
"So that's what's been holding you back,” she said softly. “I'd wondered."
Her hands went to the belt of her yukata and deftly undid the knot.
“What are you doing?”
To her delight, his voice no longer sounded as steady as before. As an answer to his question, Kagome let her yukata fall open.
She saw more than heard him swallow, the quick bob of his Adam's apple a telltale response.
A smile spread to her lips. She’d been anticipating a bath and thus had chosen to dress light and not to bother with an under-kimono.
She started to walk towards him, her bare breasts proudly on display.
His gaze, predictably, didn't meet her eyes anymore. Sesshoumaru might spout whatever human-hating rhetoric he wished but his actions screamed of his attraction. And Kagome was determined to both get what she wanted and to prove him wrong.
Prove herself.
She stopped in front of him.
Slowly, she reached her hand toward him, her eyes fixed on the slick path of an errant droplet of water, one of the many she’d admired on him earlier. It rolled over the tantalising ridge of his collarbone, sliding down his chest to finally bead at his nipple. Then, it fell.
Kagome caught it on the tip of her finger. Her gaze slanted up to meet Sesshoumaru’s golden stare. A smile tugged at her mouth as she brought the finger to her lips and dipped it into her mouth.
Sesshoumaru’s pupils dilated and his inhale was so sharp it emitted a hiss. Had it been anyone other than Sesshoumaru standing before her, Kagome would have called it a gasp.
She leaned closer, letting her breath ghost over his skin for a moment. Giving him a chance to step away.
He didn’t.
Her tongue flicked out, licking up his sternum, tasting his skin. His heart beat urgently under her mouth, a quick cadence she revelled in.
She pressed a kiss to that enticing hollow between his collarbones, then pulled back enough to see his face.
He was staring at her, transfixed, his eyes molten with a jumble of emotions so complex Kagome couldn’t make them out. Not that she had the time to. She had other priorities right now.
Unable and unwilling to resist temptation, her hands settled on his chest, fingers splayed to feel as much of him as she could. She let them explore, tracing the shape of his pecs, giving his nipple a deft tug, dancing down his rib cage, smoothing over his abs in a slow caress of appreciation.
A strangled sound escaped Sesshoumaru’s throat as Kagome’s hands finally found their destination and settled on the belt of his hakama.
She paused then, half-expecting a slew of protests or for Sesshoumaru to grip her hands and yank them away. But he only stood there, his own hands balled into fists, silent save for his ragged breaths.
The sweet victory made Kagome smile as her fingers started to untangle the knot. Slowly, she tugged the fabric loose. Her hands slid around his hips, pulling down the cloth and glorying in the silky skin revealed, inch by an inch. She gave his buttocks a long, teasing squeeze. She’d been wanting to sink her nails into that deliciously taut bit of muscle for so long. But today, her true prize lay elsewhere.
He was hard when she found him, her hand wrapping around him. She met his eyes as her fingers clenched. Then, she dropped onto her knees.
***
The moment her mouth closed around him, Sesshoumaru’s head was thrown back. All the air that had been caught in his lungs left him in a hiss. And when the wet delight of her tongue was followed by the scrape of her blunt, harmless teeth, Sesshoumaru started to see the advantages of having a human lover.
It took all his energy to remain standing, all his concentration to keep his hand fisted at his sides as she hummed her pleasure around him. His fingers itched to bury themselves into her hair but he could not allow them to. Instead, his claws sliced into his own skin.
He might not have enough strength of will to stop or refuse the miko-turned-temptress, but he’d be damned if he would participate in this farce or let these unwelcome urges rule —
The miko did something with her tongue, and Sesshoumaru groaned, his thoughts scattering like a flock of birds. His indignation and disgust of his own feelings towards someone so inferior were drowning under the new wave of lust wracking his body.
After another deliberate scrape of teeth, the miko’s skilled hands got busy and all Sesshoumaru’s mind could manage was to scream Yes and More!
In a blind haze, he followed her directives, until he was splayed out on the cool grass. The miko was still busy at work, inflaming his desire, bringing him closer to the looming precipice he longed for.
It was just in his reach, when the miko’s mouth vanished, leaving him cold and bereft.
Sesshoumaru’s haze lifted as the miko straddled him, and his hooded eyes cleared to take her in.
Her gaze was steady on his, glittering with a challenge as she perched above him. Her thighs cradled his hips in a firm grip. Her laboured breathing in this moment only managed to present her chest to its full, enticing potential. The scent of her arousal was heavy in the air and would have been intoxicating by itself, but mixing with that of his own it became a heady siren call. Blood roared in his ears as a growl crawled up his throat. Never in his life had he been so overcome with lust as he was now — yet the miko hovered over him, maddeningly, tantalisingly out of reach, just close enough to feel the beckoning heat of her sex.
A growl spilled from his lips as he glared at the miko, her blue eyes daring him to break his principles, to break his resolve.
The stubborn, prideful part of him did not wish to give in, even as his fingers twitched at his sides, even as he was grimly convinced that this continued torture would drive him mad.
She lowered her hips then, just a fraction. Enough for them to finally touch, leaving him nestled against her entrance.
And that — the irresistible promise, more than the taunting challenge — was what finally caused him to snap.
Away with reason and logic and resolve. His head had ruled him long enough and could no longer withstand the torrent of emotion that roared to life within. His hands snapped up and caught the miko’s hips in a bruising grip, bringing her down as he thrust up. Her spine bowed as he finally sank into her, the moan she couldn’t swallow the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. He wanted all of them, his private collection of helpless noises closely committed to memory. He ached to see rapture bloom across the beauty of her face, those sharp blue eyes softened and hazy with pleasure. He yearned to taste her and vowed that next time he would feast on her until her voice grew hoarse from screaming. He would get everything he’d denied himself for so long.
And the miko proved to be well worth the wait. She braced herself against his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh in a way that only heightened his pleasure. At his next thrust, she met him with a roll of her hips. When he realised that the throaty purr that escaped her was a laugh, a smile stretched his lips in answer. The connection between them pulsed as they moved in unison. Human or not, she met him stroke for stroke, urging him on until he lost all vestige of control and moved in wild abandon. Her cries were a symphony he would never tire of and the way her innermost muscles tightened around him drove him mad.
Finally, pure bliss broke on her face. Her blue eyes unfocused, she raked her nails across his chest as she rode the waves of pleasure, rode him. The sight of her rapture was Sesshoumaru’s undoing. Only two erratic thrusts later his ecstasy crested and erupted, spilling from him as he roared in triumph.
***
The cool evening air kissed Kagome’s sweat-slicked skin, making it bloom with goosebumps. She was languid and fully sated as she lay limply draped over Sesshoumaru. His racing heart by his ear was a soothing sound and one she appreciated. What little energy she had left was focused on regaining her breath. His hand rested on her buttocks, hot as a brand. That was expected, Kagome supposed, smiling into his chest. But his other hand was a pleasant surprise. It slid through her hair in long, lazy strokes. She sighed, swelling with brightness and turned her head to press a kiss over Sesshoumaru’s heart.
“That feels nice,” she murmured into his skin.
His fingers combed through her hair again, more gentle than she’d hoped to expect. Especially after what had just happened.
“Indeed,” he said, sounding a little baffled.
Kagome laughed and stretched her neck to press another kiss on the hollow of his throat. Then, she experimentally shifted her legs to see if they had solidified yet from the jelly they’d become.
Sesshoumaru’s grip on her ass tightened. “Leaving so soon, Miko?”
“That depends whether or not my feet will work,” she replied.
At first, there was silence, then a warm rumble. It took Kagome a few seconds to identify it as a laugh.
“And if they do?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone.
She met his eyes, touched to see the smile playing on his lips. “Then I’m going to get my bath.”
His eyebrow rose. “Well then. I might join you.”
“And wash my back?” Kagome teased him.
Humour and something much hungrier glinted in Sesshoumaru’s golden eyes. “Perhaps.”
She reached up, cupping his cheeks before claiming his lips in a slow, lazy kiss.
“I’d love that,” she told him, her breath still ghosting over his parted lips.
“So would I,” Sesshoumaru said, his voice now low and husky.
And when a new kiss spun to life between them, it was he who pulled her against him.