InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Fleeting ❯ Proclamation ( Chapter 28 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
un_love_you prompt:  #03 – “This cancels out the hurt.”

28. Proclamation

Time seemed to slow to an agonizing standstill.

Routine had never been as comforting to Kagome as it was then, so ingrained in her that it was effortless to move through the motions of day-to-day life.  It was hard for her to think of anything other than the way Hidecki held her future precariously in balance.  Had the day finally come when they would release their decision – or at the very least, notify the firm whose offer they’d decided to accept?

She walked around in a daze half the time, numb with dread and anticipation.  Her phone became an extension of her right hand, always at the ready to receive the news, no matter what time of day – or night.  She texted Sesshoumaru every afternoon before she changed out of her mail clerk uniform to find out if he’d heard anything from the SHK Gold Team; she answered Inuyasha’s nightly calls before the phone even had the chance to finish ringing.

Every day without an answer only worsened their collective trepidation.

She and Sesshoumaru would retreat to the makeshift Genkin Katsuro headquarters every evening, to stare at the turnover of financial headlines – and at his inbox.  Even knowing that the news was imminent, he wasn’t yet ready to give up the protection of the library’s shared IP address.  He wanted to see this through to the very end – to have control over the revelation of his corporate identity, if nothing else.

Every night that they returned to their apartment without answers, she’d fling her arms around him and press herself against him the moment they crossed the threshold.  He accepted the comfort she offered without protest, holding her close, threading his fingers through her hair.  She understood his frustration all too well, because she herself felt it in spades.  Their lives had been reduced to waiting, and wondering, and worrying.

July slowly morphed into August.  The sweltering heat of the summer began to set in, the humidity turning oppressive as it blanketed the city.  It was all she could do to resist the urge for a second shower before changing into her uniform at work every morning.  Evenings offered a welcome respite – the sun sank below the horizon and took away the sting of the heat; the carrels, in the basement of the library, were relatively cool and comfortable.

They had only just walked into Genkin Katsuro headquarters one evening, settling down at the old computer terminal, when their business line abruptly began to ring.  Kagome and Sesshoumaru eyed each other in surprise before turning their collective attention to the mobile phone buzzing on the desk.

Kagome’s heart lodged in her throat.  It’s been seven days, she thought, her hand finding Sesshoumaru’s beneath the desk.  She gave it an impulsive, supportive squeeze as she lifted her gaze to meet his.  Is this it?  Are they going to finally put us out of our misery?

She swallowed hard.  “Should I answer it?” she asked him softly.  Normally she’d grab it up after the first ring – she took great pride in her organizational and administrative prowess – but something had stayed her hand this time.

He glanced at the phone.  “No,” he murmured, taking a moment to gather his composure before picking it up.

“Genkin Katsuro,” he said crisply, rising to his feet and turning away from the computer – and his companion.  He listened for a moment.  “Speaking,” he continued, taking a couple of steps away, his free hand coming to rest on his hip.

One thing was rapidly becoming clear, if only from Sesshoumaru’s terse silence:  this was it.  They would know, by the end of the evening, just what fate held in store for them.

Kagome chewed on her lower lip as she listened to his side of the conversation, taking the opportunity to study him from her perch at the desk.  His hair was up in its now-familiar style, pieces of it spilling out of the hastily constructed half-ponytail.  It was the only thing disheveled about him, however – even in the mugginess of the summer, he still managed to be elegant, cool and crisp in a light-colored linen-blend suit.  He’d taken off his jacket, revealing the Bemberg-backed shell of his waistcoat, and had rolled the sleeves of his starched white shirt to his elbows.  Her eyes continued their leisurely tour, her gaze lingering and appreciative as she traced the lines of his body, so well-framed by his suit’s exquisite custom tailoring.  

He usually inspired her towards sophistication in her own clothing choices, but the weather had trumped refinement for her, of late.  She craved the cool breathability of cotton to combat the heat and humidity, hence her own sensible ensemble of a halter-style tank paired with a pleated miniskirt.  After days spent suffering in her coverall-style mail clerk uniform, there was nothing better, in her estimation, than sliding into light, simple clothing that left her feeling practically naked.

It was all she could do now to keep her hands to herself, to resist the overwhelming urge to reach out for him, to touch him, to make some sort of physical contact with him in the midst of this intense, emotional moment.  Her fingertips began to tingle with the anticipation of touch, but she refrained from the temptation, instead pushing her hands through her hair, scraping it up from the back of her neck, and tried to distract herself with a plot to steal one of his hair ties.

Even if she’d wanted to move, she couldn’t; her legs felt like lead, weighing her down, rooting her to the seat of the straight-backed chair.  The longer he stood with his back to her, the longer he held the seemingly one-sided conversation on the phone, the harder her heart seemed pound against her ribs, and the heavier her stomach felt, as if it was laden with stones.  She felt herself teetering on the knife’s edge of sanity, almost afraid to breathe.  Their lives hung in the balance – her inheritance and his; their futures, and Inuyasha’s.

Finally, after what felt like ages, the call came to an end.  “Thank you very much,” Sesshoumaru murmured, his words slicing through the air and pulling her back to the surface of her thoughts.  She watched him as he slowly lowered the phone to his side, heard a distinct click as he flipped it closed.  He was silent for a long moment, simply standing there, his hand still planted on his hip, his head bowed, exposing the delicate arch of his neck.

“Well?” she prompted after an agonizing moment, her voice sounding strangled to her own ears.

He released his breath, slowly pivoting on his heel to face her.  “They’ve accepted our offer,” he informed her quietly, his voice not much above a whisper, the shock of the news still evident in the lines of his features.

Her heart stopped, and then suddenly started to beat frantically as she stared at him, dumbfounded.  “W-what?” she choked out, desperately hoping she hadn’t mistaken his words.

A hint of a smile curved the corners of his mouth.  “They’ve accepted our offer,” he repeated, laying the phone on the desk next to the computer.  He pointed to the monitor screen; when she looked, she could hardly believe it:  a new email had just appeared in the corporate inbox, its bold-faced subject line screaming CONGRATULATIONS right before her very eyes.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, feeling the weight of the world lifting away, a wave of excitement and pleasure and relief crashing over her in its stead.  “Oh, my God,” she said again, a bit louder this time, breaking into a wide, satisfied grin as she clambered to her feet and turned to him.

Ohmigod!” she squealed, launching herself at him, closing her arms around his shoulders.  “We did it!  We did it!!”

She curled one hand curled into his hair, pulled taut at the nape of his neck, and pressed herself close, her other hand sliding down the long, lean planes of his back to his waist.  “You did it,” she corrected herself softly, turning her face into the hollow of his neck, her breath soft against the shell of his ear.  “Sesshoumaru…”

“Kagome,” he whispered, brushing the backs of his fingers across her cheek.  She leaned into the light caress, lifting her head slightly – just enough for his lips to find hers in a searing, breath-stealing, pulse-pounding kiss.

For a moment, she could only stand there, arrested by the fiery rush of heat and raw need that suddenly burned between them.  She felt the fine shimmer of shock that coursed down his spine as he pulled her body flush to his, as he slanted his mouth over hers, finding a deeper, more satisfying angle.

Heat blossomed in her core, radiating up through her chest, spreading down the lengths of her arms as she clung to him, fighting to kiss and speak and breathe, all at once.  He only seemed interested in the first, securing one arm around her waist as the other swept across her back, his hand clasping her shoulder, holding her in place.

“Forgive me, Kagome,” he mumbled between kisses, sounding not the least bit sorry, “for I’ve forgotten my place.”

“What?” she breathed, muddle-headed, not completely sure that she’d heard him correctly…and, all the same, not really caring.  She’d wanted this moment way too much – and had waited for it for far too long – to even contemplate letting it end now, for any reason.

Not that it felt like he wanted it to end, in spite of his apology.  The hand at her shoulder drifted into her hair, cradling the back of her head as he kissed her, easing her mouth open, his tongue finding hers.  At the same time, he leaned into her, until she could feel the smooth buttons of his waistcoat pressing into her torso through the thin material of her tank, until she could feel the weight of his body on top of hers, the sensation instantly filling her mind with images of heated, urgent, passionate sex, rendering her breathless with want and need.

She stumbled backwards, and he followed, his hands sliding down around her hips as they continued to kiss.  She was brought up short by the desk, its blunted edge jutting into the backs of her legs; she had only enough time to reach back and sweep away the clutter before he lifted her up and gently deposited her on the worn wooden surface.  She parted her legs, inviting him closer as she raked her hands down the planes of his back and took hold of his backside.

Her bold move prompted him to break the kiss; he heaved a long, jagged sigh against her cheek.  “Kagome,” he whispered in a rush, his voice heavy and full as he held her close.  “Oh, God, I want you so much.”

His words ignited the heat in her core, causing it to pool like liquid honey in the cradle of her pelvis.  “I want you, too,” she breathed in response, her tongue darting out to lick the corner of his mouth as she rocked her hips into his.

He shuddered, exhaling sharply.  “But – I have to know – ” he faltered, “ – about you – and Inuyasha – ”

She furrowed her brow.  “What about us?” she broke in, lifting her hands to frame his face, to keep him close, lest he try to pull away.

He swallowed hard, his eyes slipping shut, as if the question was too painful to even contemplate.  “Are you – ?”

“We’re friends,” she assured him softly, pressing an errant lock of hair behind his ear, only to feel the brace of his arms tighten around her.  “We’re friends, and nothing more than that, because he knows…”

She leaned back slightly, tracing the tiny lines of anguish that deepened his brow, first with her eyes, and then her fingers.  “He knows that – you’re all I’ve ever wanted,” she confessed in a rush.  “You are everything to me, Sesshoumaru.  The way I feel about you – ”  

Her words suddenly lodged in the back of her throat.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone else,” she finally managed.  “Anyone,” she reiterated, twining her hands into his hair, giving it a gentle tug to emphasize her point.

He opened his eyes, his brow softening as his golden gaze met hers.  “You humble me, Kagome Higurashi,” he murmured.  “I don’t deserve you.”

She smiled softly.  “Yes, you do,” she replied, lifting her mouth to meet his in an inviting, heartening kiss.  He held her there, his lips soft and pliant on hers, drawing out the promise that lingered between them.  One kiss cascaded into another, long and slow and deep, simultaneously soothing and stoking the need that burned within her.  His hand drifted down to caress her leg, his touch easy and gentle as he inched higher and higher underneath her skirt.  As desperately as she desired to have him inside her, she could feel the urgency for that moment slipping away beneath his touch, the feel of his mouth – and his hands – smooth and warm against her skin.  It was absolutely intoxicating, and breathtaking, and electrifying.

She wanted it all:  the mad, passionate sex; the quiet, smoldering love; the ardent, fervent, emotional explosion that was sure to accompany both.

She wanted him, and he wanted her, and finally – finally, they were free to acknowledge their love, and to indulge it.  There was no doubt in her mind that the moment she’d longed for – that beautiful, glorious, earth-shattering moment when they finally came together, body and soul – would be worth the angst and the pain she’d suffered for the better part of a year.

I love you, she thought, tightening her grip on him as she leaned back, enjoying the trail of soft kisses he pressed along the column of her throat, the hand on her thigh subtly urging her legs further apart.  Don’t stop…don’t ever stop…

The rude buzz of the library’s warning bell startled them both, slicing through silence of the carrel, an unwelcome reminder of their reality.

Nooo,” she moaned when he drew away, curling her nails into his sides to hold him in place.

Yesss,” he teased, his breath warm against her mouth, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

She cracked her eyes open.  “You want to stop?” she questioned softly as she looked at him, at the desire that darkened his golden gaze into a deep, rich amber.

“No,” he admitted, “but if given the choice, I’d rather not continue here.”  He kissed her again, seemingly reluctant to completely part ways with her just yet.

She seized upon his hesitation, closing her knees around his hips as she chased his kiss with one of her own.  I’ve wanted this for so long, she thought stubbornly.  I don’t care where it happens – only that it does.  “Please, Sesshoumaru,” she whispered, her words fierce though her tone trembled, “don’t deny me.”

“I don’t intend to,” he replied, nipping at her earlobe, causing her heart to skip a beat.  “But not here – not like this.”

His words made her stomach turn over on itself, inadvertently sending her back to a moment in time she’d rather forget:  her first, failed attempt to seduce him after he’d rescued her from a drunken escapade.  She bit her lip as he disentangled himself from her, concentrating instead on the desire that still swirled inside her, pressing her legs together in a vain attempt to quell it.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down as she slid down from the desk, busying herself with gathering the papers she’d so carelessly swept aside before.  It was hard to believe that it was over –

– that they’d won

– that everything had worked out just as she’d dreamed and hoped and wished it would.  

It hardly seemed real, and yet:  it was.

~*~

Never before had the trip from the public library to their apartment complex felt quite so long or arduous.

Somehow, they managed to gather themselves and get out of the library just in time – Kagome could hear the faint click of the doors automatically locking behind them as they stepped out onto the sidewalk.  She barely registered the rumbles of thunder in the distance as they turned towards the metro station.  She wasn’t completely sure that her feet were even touching the ground – she hadn’t felt this light or free in ages, and she’d never felt so confident and yet, so peaceful in the presence of another.  She constantly snuck peeks at Sesshoumaru as they made their way to the metro, marveling at his ability to seem so calm and in control.  Only the hint of the smile that touched the corners of his mouth belayed his satisfaction – that, and the firm grip he kept on her hand.

He was not a man who was naturally inclined toward public displays of affection, so it was to her surprise – as much as her pleasure – that he held her as possessively as he did once they were on the train platform.  He circled his arm around her waist, hugging her hip against his as they pushed through the sea of humanity around them, trying to find a spot near the front.  It was one of the last trains out of the city for the evening and thus, a raucous crowd surrounded them.  

The metro roared into the station, and everyone tried to move at once:  people pushing their way off collided with those rushing to claim a spot on board.  Sesshoumaru and Kagome were no exception; they elbowed their way inside, maneuvering towards the center of the car.  The seats were full, so he claimed a spot against one of the vertical rails in the middle, looping one arm around the pole and gathering her close with the other.  

He narrowed his eyes, surveying their surroundings as the doors closed and the train began to move.  “Sardines,” he muttered under his breath, tightening his grip on her as the crowd crushed them together.  

Kagome smiled in response, burying her head in his shoulder and closing her arms around his waist.  For once, she was content to wait.

The metro stopped at each station between their destinations, screeching to a halt at seemingly every platform it passed, before slowly building speed and taking off once more.  It was difficult to resist the temptation of his body pressing into hers with each jarring, jerky movement of the train, so she stopped trying.  She reveled in their closeness, sliding her hands around the hem of his waistcoat, running her fingers along the seam that joined the linen fabric in the front with the Bemberg shell in the back.

He responded to her ministrations, closing his arm around her waist and giving her hip a light squeeze, yet his expression remained impassive.  Even with all of the stops so far, the crowd around them had yet to abate, and he apparently did not wish to attract any undue attention.  She could understand that – normally, she hated standing within touching distance of anyone in the hot, stifling metro car, and did her best to shrink away and avoid even accidental brushes with her fellow passengers.

There was something about him, however – she couldn’t seem to stop touching him, even when social propriety demanded it.

Well, he broke the rules first, she silently contended, enjoying the possessiveness of his hold on her, her hands moving away from the seams of his waistcoat.  She found the buttons in front, drawing the nail of her thumb along each rounded curve, and she simultaneously leaned into him, planting a soft kiss at the base of his neck.

Her gaze flickered up; she watched him carefully to gauge his reaction to her teasing.  His eyes narrowed imperceptibly, but he continued to stare into the middle distance, his features schooled into the bland expression she knew so well.

Emboldened by his acquiescence, she pressed another kiss to his neck, turning her body ever so slightly into his.  A wicked notion suddenly took hold of her mind; her heart began to throb as she contemplated it, and she kissed him again, slightly higher this time, as she gathered her courage.  She tried to envision what she wanted to do, but she couldn’t – every time she closed her eyes, she only became more aware of him and her body’s reaction to him.  Heat spiked between her legs as she thought of the kisses in the basement of the library.

Her eyes still closed, she let go of the last button of his waistcoat, sliding her hand lower, smoothing it down the front of his trousers until she could feel the weight of him in her palm.  She exhaled sharply as his nails dug into her hip, breaking her hold on him as he suddenly shifted beneath her.

“Well, now,” he intoned, sweeping her hand up and away from such dangerous territory, “what’s this?”

“You started it,” she managed to reply, touching the hand still firmly gripping her hip, his hold on her so firm that he was threatening to inadvertently reveal her underwear.  She hooded her eyes as she gazed at him, her lips curving into her most seductive smile.  “And I dare you to finish it.”

He lifted an eyebrow as he relaxed his hold, his golden eyes filled with mirth.  “Some of us prefer to exercise exquisite control,” he returned, leaning into her, his breath tickling her ear, “until just the right moment.”

She swallowed hard, her heart still pounding in her chest – and reverberating elsewhere.  “But it’s been five long, lonely months,” she purred, lacing their hands together.

He furrowed his brow as he drew away from her.  “…since March?” he mused, realization dawning in his expression.  “Since…”  

Since Inuyasha, she silently amended.  

She nodded somberly.  “It was a mistake,” she murmured, “a horrible, horrible mistake.”  She shook her head.  “And before that, the last time…”  She flushed.  “…was before I even met you.”

He squeezed her hand, his gaze turning serious as he regarded her.  “Why are you telling me this now?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

She shrugged.  It was an awkward time – not to mention place – to suddenly break out her sexual history, she had to admit.  “I don’t know,” she mumbled, a tide of embarrassment rising high within her.  She didn’t regret her past, but she desperately didn’t want him to think badly of her for having one.  This was the one corner of his life that was still completely dark to her, and suddenly, she was filled with unease to even contemplate it.

The metro screeched to a halt at its next scheduled stop, and the pressure of the crowd finally seemed to lessen.  Kagome took a step back, but Sesshoumaru held firm, taking both of her hands into his.  She couldn’t quite bring herself to meet his gaze; instead, she eyed the floor, listening as the doors closed and the train began to roll forward again, picking up speed as it continued on its way.

“It’s been awhile for me as well,” he said quietly, breaking their uncomfortable silence.  “Much longer than five months.”

She lifted her gaze to meet his.  “How long?” she asked softly.  It was almost strange to hear him speak of his love life in any capacity – he’d kept this part of himself so tightly under wraps, until now.  She’d only just learned of his last relationship, which had been serious enough to make him contemplate marriage.  She couldn’t help but wonder just how deeply it was buried in his past, and how much it ending had hurt him, considering his previous reluctance for physical intimacy.

“Nearly four years,” he confessed wryly.  “I might be out of practice.”

She swallowed hard, her eyes widening as she absorbed his reply.  She could barely even fathom a four-month drought, much less four years.  No wonder he speaks of exercising exquisite control, she thought, the very notion of it causing her to quiver with anticipation.  

“Well, you’re doing fine so far,” she teased with a heated smile, drawing close to him once more.

“So I surmised,” he replied with a smirk, wrapping his arms around her waist.  He gazed at her for a long moment, his study so intense and assessing that she felt herself blush again.

Just as she opened to mouth to question him, he spoke again, his voice quiet and low.  “Do you have – protection?”

She nodded, feeling a wave of relief cresting over her.  “I’m not ready for marriage, and I’m really not ready for babies,” she assured him with a laugh.  When he didn’t immediately respond in kind, her jaw fell slack.  “Is that going to be a problem for you?” she ventured.

“No,” he replied swiftly, a small smile gracing his features as he hugged her close.

The train pulled into the station at its next stop, which was theirs.  They waited for the others who were also trickling off the metro to leave before stepping out onto the platform themselves.  Their pace was steady and sedate as they climbed the stairs, their arms entwined as they enjoyed the rare, cool breeze that wafted down at them from the surface.

Kagome leaned in for a kiss as they emerged on the top of the landing, but Sesshoumaru abruptly pulled away from her.  When she opened her eyes, she realized why:  rain was falling steadily before them; thunder rumbled in the distance, promising serious return.

“Of all the times for it to rain,” she groaned, casting a sidelong glance at him.  She furrowed her brow when she realized that he was sliding out of his suit jacket.  “What are you – ?”

Her half-asked question was answered when he held the jacket aloft, moving closer to her so that she, too, would be shielded from the oncoming storm.  She took hold of the side closest to her, more than happy to lean into him, and felt his arm curl protectively around her waist, pulling her close once more.

He pressed a kiss to her temple.  “I want you in my bed, but not because you’re sick,” he murmured, sending a shiver of anticipation racing down her spine.

“Well, far be it from me to deny you,” she teased, circling her free arm around him in kind.  “Let’s go.”

~*~

Kagome fought to suppress her giggles as she stood beside Sesshoumaru on the doorstep of their apartment.  They were both completely soaked through; the rain had started falling harder and faster than either of them had anticipated.  It was pouring down on them in sheets now, soaking through the hapless linen jacket they still held over their heads.

Sesshoumaru was struggling with his keys, unable to keep a firm grip on the slippery metal.  He shot Kagome a dirty look when she started laughing, but she couldn’t help herself – he was cursing under his breath as he tried to put the correct key in the lock, twisting and turning each to no avail.  Finally, he managed to triumph, and the two of them spilled unceremoniously into their foyer as the door gave way.

She shivered in the comparatively cool air of their entryway.  His jacket slid down over her shoulders as he let go of it, the whole of his attention still focused on the door, at the moment.  She turned, groping her way over to the metal hooks in the darkness, and slid the waterlogged material away from her body, shivering again, in spite of herself, and hung the jacket up on the closest one.  It was probably going to make a huge mess as it dried, but she couldn’t really find it within herself to care, at the moment.

Faintly, she heard the lock on the door click into place, and she smiled when she sensed his approach.  He wrapped his arms around her from behind, and for a long moment, he simply held her, warming her from within.  He pressed a feather-light kiss to the back of her shoulder as his hand slid down between her legs; she exhaled sharply as he gave her a long, experimental stroke through her panties.

“Kagome,” he murmured, sounding far more amused than he had any right to be, “you’re soaking wet.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was another long, ragged sigh as he stroked her again.  Heat flooded through her core and she struggled to keep her wits about her.  “So what are you going do about it?” she finally choked out, her knees going weak when he found her clit.

His movements suddenly stilled, and she could almost see his inquisitive expression in the darkness.  “Is that a challenge?” he mused, flicking his thumb over her clit again, spending another spasm of pleasure and need rocking through her.

Her hands joined his under her skirt.  “No,” she contended between shallow breaths, hooking her thumbs through the waistband of her underwear, peeling it over the curve of her hips and sending it straight to the floor.  “It’s an invitation.”

He growled in response, a sound of purely masculine pride and possessiveness, as his fingers met the slickness buried beneath her mound of curls.  Her sighs turned into soft, needy moans when he dipped a finger inside her; the arm still at her waist tightened around her as her knees threatened to give way completely.  She leaned forward, bracing herself against the wall next to his jacket, and her hands stole down to cover his, between her legs, encouraging his teasing fingers until she almost couldn’t stand it anymore.

She abruptly pushed him away, shifting against the wall so that she faced him, her breath still short in her lungs as waves of heat and need radiated through her.  Her clothes felt damp and slick against her skin – partly from the rain, but also because of him, the way his merest touch made her squirm and writhe and whimper with pleasure.  

She reached for him, and he was there, his mouth finding hers in an urgent, needy kiss.  She clutched at him, curling her arms around his shoulders, her fingers tangling into his hair.  A thin sheen of sweat beaded on her forehead as she fumbled with his hair ties, releasing the heavy curtain to cascade over her hands, soft and silky and dry, in stark contrast to the cold, soaked fabric still plastered to their skin.

His hands were on the backs of her thighs now, the caress both loving and possessive; he parted her legs around himself as he hoisted her up against the wall, pressing his still-clothed form into her.  She could feel the evidence of his arousal, hot and hard and insistent, his hips already moving against hers, sending delightful sensations of texture and heat coursing through her.  

“Release me,” he whispered against her skin, trailing light kisses down the column of her throat, his tongue laving over her collarbone as his hands slid down, cupping the backs of her knees.  “I want to feel you from the inside.”

Her breath shuttered in her lungs as she absorbed his heated request, his mouth finding hers once more.  She trailed her fingers through the long, silvery locks of his hair, followed the smooth planes of his back, yanked the tails of his shirt free before bringing her hands around between them.  She tried to concentrate on her task, but it was so deliciously difficult – their bodies moving together, his mouth hot on hers, the contrasting feel of their clothing against her bare skin, and the way his hands were stroking her legs.

I don’t believe this, I don’t believe this… Her thoughts raced across the back of her mind, almost faster than she could form them, as she struggled with his belt, the button, the zipper of his trousers.  How long had she wanted this?  How many nights had she spent alone, dreaming about this very scenario?  Her heart skidded with pleasure, but she had no time to linger.  Just as she broke through, just as she closed her hands around him, he lifted her up and buried himself inside her, pressing her against the wall and exhaling hard against her neck.

Her breath was short and sharp in her chest, giddy excitement rising through her as she marveled at just how amazingly well they fit together.  She hooked her legs around his waist, allowing his hands to roam free.  His fingers crested over her, smoothing over her arms, her sides, her breasts, raking down her abdomen before finding her hips once more, digging and pressing and rubbing, sending yet more spasms of pleasure rocketing straight to the core of her being.  It was all she could do to hang on and breathe and mewl with pleasure, her body already spiraling out of control with each thrust of his hips into hers.  

There was something reckless and thrilling about it, fucking fully-clothed in the entryway of their apartment.  Their rhythm was primal, urgent, almost frantic, as if their bodies were desperately trying to make up for lost time, for the long months and weeks and days robbed of physical contact.  Sweat trickled down the back of her neck, a clammy contrast to the cold rain still clinging to her clothing.

She curled her hands around the collar of his shirt, burrowing her fingers under the curtain of his hair, now plastered to his face and neck.  “Harder,” she urged breathlessly against his lips, digging her nails into his shoulders, his arms, raking them down his sides.  He complied with her wish, his mouth finding the curve of her neck, nipping lightly against her skin.  One hand grasped her leg while the other rose to find and cup her breast through her tank, and her mind was lost to all coherent thought, a slave to the sensations rocking through her.

Vaguely, she felt him peak, felt his hands on her hips once more, sliding down to draw her knees further apart, widening her stance.  He groaned aloud as his climax hit, his head falling into the hollow of her shoulder, his breath hot and hard against her still-soaked top, causing her to shiver and sweat and writhe beneath him.  It was enough to send her tumbling over the edge; the last thing she clearly remembered was the wonderment of him, filling her seemingly beyond capacity, and how desperately she wanted that moment to last forever….

When she finally came back to her senses, she found herself still against the wall, but curled in a tender embrace, his lips warm and soft on hers.  “Kagome,” he murmured, sliding his thumb over the crest of her cheek, his fingers splaying into her hair.  “I…”  His words trailed off as he kissed her again, nipping gently at her lower lip.

She lifted her arms, heavy and leaden, to encircle his waist, her hands smoothing up the planes of his back as she yielded to him.  Is this a dream? she wondered hazily, losing herself in the sweetness of the moment.

A sensation of sticky wetness trickled down her inner thigh, and she grinned wickedly against his mouth.

Oh, no – this was very, very real.