InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Dream Lover ❯ Chapter 1

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Title: Dream Lover
Author: LuxKen27
Universe: Alternate
Genre: Lemonfic
Rating: X
Warning: Explicit sex
Word Length: 2720
Summary: “Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?” – Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Author’s Note: Inspired by, and containing lyrics from, the song “Sweet Dreams” by Beyonce

Disclaimer: The Inuyasha concept, story, and characters are copyright Rumiko Takahashi and Viz Media.
“Sweet Dreams” © 2008 Beyonce Knowles, James Scheffer, Wayne Wilkins, & Rico Love

Kagome sighed as she pulled back the covers on her bed, a tiny, appreciative smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she eyed the warm flannel sheets that awaited her. She had long ago decided that this was the best part of winter. There was nothing quite like curling up in a warm, newly-made bed on a cold and windy night, especially after a long, stressful day at work.

And lately, that’s the only sort of day she was having, pulling double shifts at the hospital where she was the resident neurosurgeon.

She tiled her head back, finishing off the remnants of her glass of wine before kicking off her slippers and sinking into the feather-soft mattress. She eased her feet into the tightly-wrapped sheets, grateful to feel the lingering aches and pains unfurl and wash away. She sighed as she lay back, closing her eyes, more than ready to welcome the escape that accompanied her dreams.

Slowly, the exhaustion at the periphery of her body closed around her; wrapped in the warm security of the sheets, her mind floated away, off to a now-familiar place, where clouds filled with stars covered the skies, lit from behind by the glow of a low-hanging crescent moon. She was drifting, weightless, lying on a slip of the softest, whitest, most luxurious fur. Familiar arms encircled her, drawing her into the heated, inviting cradle of another body. She opened her eyes, her vision filling with waves of long, thick, silvery locks of hair.

I’ve missed you, she sighed, curling into the welcoming weight, wrapping her arms around his neck. The silk of his snowy white yukata was smooth and cool beneath her fingers.

He didn’t reply; instead content to press a soft kiss along the curve of her throat. He continued his sweet, lazy caress, making his way toward her ear with his mouth even as his hands shifted lower, smoothing over her hips and down the backs of her thighs.

She needed no further prompting than that, parting her legs for him, eager and greedy for his touch. The movements loosened the hem of her short nightgown, permitting him the access she craved, and he took full advantage, exposing the creamy expanse of her stomach. The muscles of her abdomen constricted in response to his light, teasing touch, but her attention was soon diverted, as his mouth finally found hers.

She could never quite find the words to describe the feeling of being kissed by him. It was sweet and sexy and sensuous, all at once; burning and melting and the sensation of falling forward and backward, all at once. The first time he’d kissed her, the wondrous feeling that had filled her had exploded through her, enough to break the spell and rouse her to consciousness, her body flushed and excited and tingling with anticipation.

She never thought she’d encounter him again – but there he was, waiting for her the next night in her dreams.

And the next.

And every night after that for the last month, each encounter lasting only precious moments longer than the last.

She clung to him, even as she felt the warmth of her bedsheets at her back, and opened her legs even wider, pressing her hips up to meet his. Perhaps he sensed her eagerness, for he broke away from the kiss, and she tightened her grip on his shoulders, gazing up at him hopefully, expectantly. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her breath short in her chest, and briefly, she wondered if she was doomed to wake up before finding ultimate fulfillment yet again.

His golden eyes glittered with mirth as he gazed back at her, the tiniest of smiles pulling at the corners of his lips.

Please don’t go, she implored, pressing her mouth to his again, trapping his head in her hands. Heat pooled in her abdomen, almost directly under where one of his hands currently lay, and for a moment she feared he would disappear, drifting off into time and space, falling through her fingertips like so many errant grains of sand. She was so hot, so wet, so ready to be fulfilled, even if only by ethereal hands and teeth.

He tilted his head, slanting his mouth over hers, and suddenly she felt his hands gripping her waist, almost savagely, and dragging her against him. She swallowed a gasp of surprise to feel not air, not loss, but the long, hard length of him, pressing insistently against her inner thigh.

It was all she could do not to lose it completely when she felt the fabric of her nightgown lift away from her body, discarded into the gentle breeze that surrounded them. A white hot bolt of need shot straight through her as she felt his mouth settle over her breast, his tongue laving over her nipple, working it into a rosy red peak. She busied herself with undressing him, as best she could from her position beneath him, working to free the knot in the yellow obi at his waist so that she might slip the cool silk from his shoulders. She had never seen her mysterious lover naked – they had never made it this far, not even in a month’s worth of dreamy encounters – so her movements were jerky, hasty, impulsive. She was desperate to not allow the moment to slip away, not when she was so close –

He brushed her hands away, staying her wrists at her sides, before renewing his attentions to her breasts, caressing one with his hand as he kissed and nipped at the other. He found her secret weak spot in record time, licking the soft skin between her breast and her ribcage, sending her into near-violent trembles of pure, animalistic craving. She rolled her hips against his, needing to feel more of him, all of him.

She lifted his head, wishing to feel his mouth against hers, and was not disappointed – his lips were warm and soft and tasted faintly of her skin. She took the opportunity to push the yukata he wore from his shoulders, wrapping her arms around him and reveling in the surprising warmth she found, trapped between his skin and his silky curtain of hair. She pulled away, intent to explore this new frontier, trailing lines of kisses along the column of his throat and across his collarbone, as her fingers traced the lines of his chest and core. His skin was pale alabaster, almost porcelain, molded perfectly over lean, corded muscle. She took her time in admiring his form, following the trails left by her fingers with her mouth, all the while twining her hands through his hair until it curtained him, and them. The entire time he was silent, one hand still massaging her breast, teasing her nipple, easing the tip of a thumbnail down the valley at her sternum. She glanced up to find him staring at her intently, almost studiously, as if trying to assess her reaction to their mutual explorations – all the while confident that she would not find him lacking.

She found herself arrested in his gaze, her lips parting as she pressed herself closer, lifting her head for another sensuous kiss. Her hands smoothed down the planes of his back, tweaking the ends of his hair as she found his hips, before curling her nails into his backside. He jolted in response, thrusting against her, the head of his erection striking a glancing blow off the hood of her clitoris. She tried the move again, but to no avail; he held himself steady in spite of her ministrations. He caught her swiftly before she could take matters into her own hands, but complied with her wish – her need – her ache to have some part of him inside her.

Slowly – at an almost agonizingly measured pace – he dipped the longest finger of one hand into her folds, molding the rest of his hand around her soft curls. She was hot, slick, welcoming, mewling with pleasure as he began to stroke her in a smooth, easy rhythm.

Her head fell back, lips parted, and she breathed hard, gripping his backside even as she surged against the thrusts of his hand. Her blood was boiling under her skin, her heart on pace to explode straight out of her chest, and dimly, she could but wonder what it would feel like to ride that long, hard erection – if there was a place beyond this height of arousal, desire, this pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

I wish…

Her belly tightened, pulsating in rhythm with her race of her heartbeat, and she felt herself on the edge of the cliff.

I wish…

His upper teeth sank into the flesh at her shoulder, the nails of his free hand raking down her back, and she erupted, moaning low in her throat as her inner muscles spasmed around his still-moving fingers, the heel of his hand simultaneously pushing hard against her clit.

I wish that when I wake up, you’re there, she gasped desperately, to wrap your arms around me for real, and tell me you’ll stay by my side.

Kagome.

Faintly, she heard the whisper of her name, moving through the back of her mind, as if drifting along on a placid breeze.

Wake up.

No, she pleaded, redoubling her grip on him. Don’t go. Don’t leave me, not now!

“Wake up.”

Against every aching, needy fiber of her being, her eyes cracked open, only to widen immeasurably.

She stared up into the darkened room, finding golden eyes searing into hers and long, soft, silvery locks of hair spilling over regal, pale shoulders and pooling on the bed beside her.

“What kind of dream is this?” she breathed.

Her beautiful, ethereal, mysterious dream lover lay atop her, very warm, very solid, and very much alive. He smirked at her incredulous expression, caressing her breast as he leaned down, kissing the spot on her neck at which her pulse pounded under her skin.

He lifted his head, his breath warm on her cheek. “The kind that comes true,” he replied softly, his voice a deep, rich baritone.

Before she had the chance to register his words, she felt his hands under her hips, raising her just enough to penetrate, sheathing himself to the hilt. She gasped – in shock, in surprise, in raw, absolute need – and then melted into him.

A small, satisfied chuckle rumbled low in his throat. He gathered her close, nuzzling at her jaw, her throat, her shoulder as he began to move inside her. He was artful and deft, alternating long, slow strokes to build the tension up in her core before countering with shorter, harder, rougher thrusts, calculated to drive her absolutely mad with desire. Waves of heat and need crashed through her, over her, as she tumbled along with the rhythm of his body. He deliberately pushed her to the brink and brought her back down again, over and over, until she couldn’t stand it anymore. Digging her nails into his shoulders, wrapping her legs around his, she arched off the bed, meeting him stroke for stroke, thrust for thrust. Her breath was heavy and jagged as she fought to stay with him, in this most exquisite moment, half-wondering but never caring if she was really still dreaming – her body tingled with fiery passion nonetheless.

His head fell into the curve of her shoulder, and she felt just how hard he was breathing, the inhalations short and sharp against her arms, encircling his back. That sensation was enough – the knowledge of his strength and passion finally pushed her over the edge, and she exploded, falling backwards into infinity, no longer heeding nor caring for temporal reality. Spasms rocked her body as she clung to him, taking what he had to give, silently marveling at his sense of control in the midst of her chaos. Just as she began to spiral back down to earth, she felt it – the moment he gave in, pushing her legs wider to accommodate his final thrust. He pushed himself forward and up into a graceful arc, throwing his head back and lifting his chin, his silver hair shimmering as it cascaded down his back like a waterfall, even as he emptied himself inside her.

“Please, tell me you’re real,” Kagome whispered a few moments later, when he lay atop her once more, wrapping her arms around his neck and twirling her fingers through his hair.

He laughed. “Do I not feel real to you?” he queried, rolling his hips against hers, stoking the embers of the fire that still linked their bodies.

“Oh yes,” she sighed, brushing his hair from his cheek as he bent to kiss her neck once more. “You feel better than real – you feel perfect, magnificent –” her breath caught in her throat – “and hard.”

His lips trailed down to her clavicle, his tongue tracing the long length of her collarbone. “And you feel hot, wet, and ready,” he murmured in return, his voice almost a purr.

“What did I do to deserve you?” she wondered aloud, exhaling sharply when she felt his hand on her breast again, tweaking her nipple.

He smiled as he glanced up, his golden eyes glittering as he lifted his mouth to meet hers in another amazingly sensual kiss. “You wanted me,” was the simple reply whispered against her lips.

Their bodies were moving again, even before the kiss ended, and Kagome closed her eyes, letting herself go, losing herself in the sensation of the way he moved with her and against her all at once.

I don’t even know your name, she realized with a slight flush, tightening the brace of her arms over his back, unwilling to even contemplate letting precious space come between them.

Just listen, he replied, ceasing his movements only long enough to roll over on his side, then his back, bringing her up to sit astride him. He lifted a hand to her chest and closed it over her left breast, drawing his fingers down, around, and under it, as if leaving a mark directly on her heart.

The gentle strokes only worsened her renewed need for release, and she moved faster, riding him for all she was worth, until he could tease her no more, driven to keep her down with him for as long as possible, his hands relegated to holding her hips in place.

She began to moan as she felt this latest orgasm build in the cradle of her pelvis, hot and heavy and ready to burst. It felt so good, and she wanted it to last even longer, an intoxicating mixture of pleasure and pain, need and release, fire and ice.

“Sesshoumaru!” she cried out, unable to hold back another moment. She fell forward this time, landing in the warm, waiting circle of his arms and curling against him as she rode out the spasms of lust and desire. She lay there, finally spent, for what seemed like forever, wrapped in the comfort and strength of his embrace, enjoying the feel of his fingers against her scalp, fanning her hair across his chest.

When next she opened her eyes, the first rays of dawn were just beginning to filter into the room. She sighed, and frowned, furrowing closer to him.

“Can’t you stay with me forever?” she mused mournfully, not yet ready to release herself from this scene and face another day filled with stress and anguish.

“Yes,” he whispered softly, the words slicing straight through her, piercing her heart like a spear. “All you ever had to do was say my name.”