InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 9: Subterfuge ❯ Tempest ( Chapter 204 )

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

There is no clean version of this chapter. You've been warned.




~~Chapter Two Hundred Four~~
~Tempest~


-OoOoOoOoOoO oOoOoOoO-

'I kn-kn-know a girl; she gets what she wants all the time ...
''Cause she's fine
'But for an angel, she's a hot, hot mess
'Make you so blind
'But you don't mind …'

-'She's So Mean' by Matchbox Twenty.


-Evan-


"Wh . . . What . . .?" Evan mumbled, eyes drifting closed despite his best effort to stop Valerie—to stop her before she did something that she would probably regret once she sobered up.  Hands slipping over flesh, pushing off his shirt, she paid no heed to his acute discomfort as she leaned in even closer, as though she were trying to meld their bodies into one.  He grimaced.  The air hung thick with the sexual frustration that he'd tried to contain for far too long, and it registered vaguely in the back of his mind that he was ultimately fighting a losing battle.

"I love you," she said again, her breathing coming in husky, rasping pants that dampened his skin in a torturously delicious kind of way.  Pressing her body even closer, she heaved a quivering sigh.  "God, I want you . . ."

"I . . . We . . . can't . . . V . . . Damn," he groaned, struggling to hold onto a semblance of his sanity.  It wasn't working.  If he managed to live through the night, it would probably be a miracle.  Still, her words echoed in his mind, and as much as he desperately wanted to believe them, he couldn't quite shake the unreasonable hysteria that she might realize what she'd said, that she might try to explain it away as the drunken babblings of a confused woman . . .

"Don't you want me?" she whispered.

"Th . . . That's not fair," he pointed out.

"It's fair," she insisted, reaching down between them, rubbing him through the irritating fabric of his jeans.  "Do you really want me to stop?"

Closing his eyes, swallowing hard, Evan grimaced.  ". . . Fuck, no . . ."

"Please?"  She kissed him—long, lingering, infinitely tenderly.  "Please?" Another kiss, but this one was tinged with the emotion that she'd tried to deny for so long.  "Please?" A kiss full of unspoken promise, of want and need and desperation . . .

Still, that small hint, that lingering shadow of doubt remained, and Evan turned his head to the side—one last ditch effort to win a losing battle.  "I don't . . . V . . ."

Erupting in a low near-purr, Valerie kneaded the flesh of his chest, the muscles that rippled under her touch.  Grasping her wrists, he meant to push away, wanted to wait until she was fully capable of remembering the entire thing—wanted to give her the time to make certain that it was really what she wanted, even if the very idea of letting go of her now was enough to choke him—but somewhere between his brain and his hands, the message was lost, and when she scooted back, mouth dropping to his collar bone, Evan sucked in a sharp breath and very nearly came undone.

It occurred to him in a vague sort of way that the entire situation might well be laughable, all things considered.  After all, he was bigger, stronger than her, wasn't he?  If he were to stop and consider it, it was preposterous, right?  He was Zel Roka, for God's sake—the man who loved women: lots of them and as often as he could—so why wasn't he able to mount even a token resistance?  No, instead, there he was, unable to a thing about the physical onslaught that she delivered.

Lips, teeth, tongue amassing a small-scale assault that left a his body in a state of absolute wreckage, she demolished every barrier that he tried to build up between them, banished all doubts like the sun splitting the summer rain clouds.  The feel of her hands, of her mouth, burned him, seared him down to the bone.  He didn't trust himself to touch her, couldn't let himself go, teetering on the very cusp of the shaky sense of self-control that was so rapidly dissolving away.

"V . . . You . . . Are you . . . sure . . .?" he managed to ask, and the words helped to bolster his resolve, at least, a little bit.   But there was just too much riding on this, too much that it could easily ruin if he weren't careful, and even if his body was dying, he still had to make sure.

Grasping his shoulders, she pulled herself up, staring at him without trying to hide anything; it was all there, all visible, all smoldering in the depths of her gaze.  Cheeks pinked, lips swollen and slightly parted as she tried to steady her breathing, she stared at him for a long moment.  "I want you, Evan," she said quietly, her voice still tinged by a huskiness that matched her ragged respirations.  "Do you want me to beg?  Okay, I'll beg."  Leaning in closer, her lips brushing over his like the whisper of a butterfly's wings, he tried to capture them, but she pulled back, closing her eyes.  "I want you," she repeated, "I need you . . . please . . . I'll do anything—" Eyes opening slowly, the intense burn igniting as her scent spiked once more, she blinked once, twice, as though she were trying to tell him that she absolutely understood what the consequences of her choice of words could be before continuing.  "—Anything—so please . . ."

Shaking his head, more to try to cling to a modicum of self-control before he lost his head completely, he grimaced and gritted his teeth.  "And if you don't remember all this in the morning?"  His voice sounded as harsh as hers . . .

"Well, if I don't remember," she said as she leaned in once more, capturing his earlobe in her teeth, running her tongue along the sensitive skin until he was shuddering, almost convulsing while wave after delicious wave of shivers ran up and down his spine, "then you'll just have to fuck me again tomorrow—you know: jar my memory, Roka."

He groaned.   Long and loud and completely primitive, the sound slipped out of him before he could think, before he could stop himself, and he gathered her up, pushing himself to his feet with the back of his legs to carry her upstairs before he could talk himself out of it.

Valerie didn't stop as he hurried toward the stairs.  If anything, she was growing more impatient with every passing moment.  He did manage to get all the way to the second floor with only a couple pauses while he fought to regain a semblance of control, but he slumped against the wall briefly as she dragged her fingernails over the muscles of his chest, his arms, as she scraped her teeth over his throat.  The unsteady rhythm of her heartbeat echoed in his ears, and he shouldered himself away from the wall, staggering the last distance into his bedroom.

She blinked in apparent confusion when he set her down on the bed, rising up on her knees as he yanked at the buttons of his jeans.  It took her a few moments to figure out just what he was doing, but when she did, she reached out, pushed his hands away, and made quick work of unfastening them and pushing them down his legs.  Then she slid off the bed to remove her own clothing while Evan kicked off the jeans, leaving them in a careless heap on the floor, half-inside-out and completely forgotten.

He finished before she did, and he stood, watching as she clumsily tugged the soft, off-white angora sweater over her head, as she discarded her own jeans next to his on the floor.  Balling his hands into tight fists at his sides, he didn't dare reach for her, didn't dare try to help her remove the pretty pink silk bra and panty set.  Considering that he'd love nothing more than to rip them right off of her—something she really might object to in the morning—he figured that it was as safe as he could get, at least, at the moment.

But the sight of her absolutely gorgeous breasts as they bounced so perfectly when she reached behind herself and flicked the hooks that held it closed very nearly brought him to his knees; the beautifully puckered rosy nipples wrenched a low moan from him, and he started to reach for his penis, to stroke himself as he waited, but he thought better of that.  He was already much, much too close to the very brink of his control that he wasn't entirely sure that he could withstand any kind of touch, even his own.

Kicking off her panties, she straightened her back, arms at her sides as she stood quietly, as she stared at Evan in a completely unabashed kind of way.  She seemed to be asking him a silent question, and he gritted his teeth hard then rasped out a harsh and very weak chuckle.  "If I move, I swear to God, I'll come," he growled.

She blinked a few times and considered his statement.  Then with a breathy giggle, she reached out, grasped him in her hands.

And his world exploded.

He almost slumped to the floor.  It registered in the back of his mind that she was laughing.  Either she hadn't believed what he'd claimed or she just couldn't help herself.  Either way, it took him a minute or two to get his brain to function.  Standing at the foot of the bed, his arms stretched over his head, holding onto the upper part of the frame so tightly that he'd dug his claws into it, he struggled to catch his breath, only to gasp when the shocking heat of Valerie's mouth closed over him.  Every muscle in his body was straining, every nerve resounding with the need to touch her, to love her, and still he didn't dare move.

Uttering a roughened groan, he closed his eyes, let his head fall back, unable to do anything at all as she grasped his ass, as she fucked him with her mouth.  The feel of her tongue stroking him, the absolute sensation, the demanding suction rattled through him, straight to his brain, reverberating throughout his body.  The hungry, slurping sounds that filled the room warred with his breathing, with his moans.

She leaned back on her heels, her lips letting go with a lurid 'pop', she laughed unevenly.  He started to lift his head, to look down at her, only to let it fall back once more when the tip of her tongue touched him once more, delicately running around the head of his penis.  One hand pumping him in a steady, hard cadence while the other gently massaged his balls, she teased him unmercifully.

Deep inside him, he could feel it; the familiar tensing, the incredible ache that feverishly multiplied upon itself, over and over again, the rise of his climax.  "V, if you don't stop . . ." he whispered, face contorting in a formidable scowl as the pleasure rapidly shifted into near-pain.

She laughed again, giving him one last squeeze, one last yank, then let go, slowly kissing her way up his body as she got to her feet once more.  Tongue flicking out, delving into his belly button, she didn't seem to be in a hurry, and, while Evan could and did appreciate that, he wasn't exactly in the mood to wait, either.

He grabbed her by the shoulders, dragged her roughly against him, pulling her to her feet and bending down to kiss her, smashing her lips under his, all finesse forgotten as rampant lust took over.  They tumbled onto the bed, a tangle of arms and legs, of raging need and insatiate desire.  Trying to touch every part of her in the space of an instant frustrated him.  Unwilling to relinquish his claim on her mouth, unable to ignore the steadily growing passion, the overwhelming need to dominate every part of her.  Well past the point of control where he could dictate his body's will, he dragged his lips down her body, searing a path on her skin, grazed his fangs over her unblemished skin.

She gasped and jerked beneath him when his mouth closed over her breast, arching her body against his, asking him intuitively more for, and he gave it, his tongue flicking over her swollen nipple as she half-cried, half-moaned, as he sank two fingers deep into her.  Bucking her hips against him, allowing him to penetrate her deeper, deeper, she quaked and quivered.  With a strangled cry, his name tumbling from her lips, she tightened around him, her entire body tensing as a powerful orgasm slammed through her.

Sliding down her body, he slipped his arms under her legs, spread her open wide, breathing in the heady scent of her, mesmerized by the glistening flesh he exposed.  Closing his mouth over her, shifting his gaze upward, he savored her.  She arched her back, breasts thrust upward, grinding her hips against his mouth, against his tongue, babbling nonsense.  He slid his fingers inside her again, rocking them in and out of her as her gasping breaths grew louder, more demanding.  She ground her hips against his mouth, uttering harsh, rasping gasps, broken entreaties.

Savoring the taste of her, mind reeling from the complete inundation of his senses, Evan reveled in absorbing her reactions.  Every slight quiver, every tumultuous sigh, everything goaded him, growing more insistent as his own need built upon hers.  Slipping his tongue up and down , flicking it over over-sensitized flesh, he moaned against her.

Valerie cried out again, her fingers tangled in his hair, her body tensing again as absolute pleasure took over.  Fingernails digging into his shoulders, the sound of his name spilled from her lips, echoed in the air, pulsed with the beat of her heart.  "Fuck me, Evan," she moaned.  "Fuck . . ."

It was all he waited to hear.

He sat up, crawling over her to yank the nightstand drawer open, to fumble around for a condom.  Damned if his fingers wanted to work at the moment.  Not content to wait for him, Valerie sat up, pressed her body against his back, wrapping her arms around him, running her hands over his chest.  He could smell the wine, sweet on her breath, and he damn near ripped the condom in his haste.  Hands shaking, breathing stunted and uneven, intoxicated by the scent of the woman, Evan somehow managed to roll the condom on before turning with a roughened growl, grasping Valerie's shoulders, and shoving her back as he positioned himself between her legs and slammed his hips against hers.

She screamed, body quivering, convulsing around him, legs locking around his waist instinctively, as though she were afraid that he was going to leave her, and Evan groaned, squeezing his eyes closed, gritting his teeth hard as he tried to hold himself in check.

It took a minute for him to regain a modicum of control, at least enough that he wasn't in as much danger of coming if he so much as breathed.  Valerie, however, seemed to be absolutely hell-bent on his ultimate failure.  Lifting her hips, grinding herself against him, she created a cadence that wrung a low growl from him.  She dug her nails into his back, and he didn't care.  Meeting her motions, shoving her back down against the mattress with a force that rattled straight through the both of them as the tension inside him rolled and frothed, climbing higher with every stroke.

The molten heat of her, the incredible tightness that surrounded him precluded everything else, as if the entire world had somehow ceased to exist, leaving Valerie and him and the voracious need that spiraled higher and higher.

"Fucking hell, I'm going to die," Evan murmured, pushing himself up, grabbing Valerie's knees roughly, yanking her toward him to meet his thrusts.

Her response was a loud groan, almost a moan, her body tensing around him, drawing him in deeper, beckoning him toward the cusp of complete oblivion.

"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do this?" he growled, driving himself into her, the sound of his flesh cracking against hers like thunderclaps.

Valerie replied with a half-whimper, half-moan, reaching up, tightening her fists around handfuls of the comforter.  Arching her back, her breasts flushed, hardened nipples presenting an absolutely beautiful display of complete abandon.  She opened her eyes slightly, gnawing on her lower lip as she gasped, staring at him with an intensity that wrapped around his brain.

The burgeoning ache swelled and intensified, the growing sense that he was tumbling past the point of no return urging him on in a frenzy of sensation, a tide of lust.  Harder, faster, ever more insistent, the tingling in his body converging into one point, one consuming need that grew larger, loomed heavier, thickened in the air around them.

Valerie's movements became more frenzied, more wanton.  Rising up off the bed, only to be slammed back down again, over and over as she whimpered, moaned.  Every beat of her heart reverberated from her to him, and in the space of a breath, he could feel himself coming apart.

She cried out, her body tensing, every muscle straining, locking around him so tightly that he gasped, unable to do more than collapse against her while his body tried to remember to breathe, while he fought for some tiny bit of control.  It didn't work, and with a hoarse cry of his own, he tumbled over the edge, his body exploding in a collision of want and need and ultimate fulfillment that would be as transient as the morning tides.

It seemed like forever before he managed to push himself up on his elbows, opened his eyes, only to find her staring at him.  When he met her gaze, she smiled, albeit weakly, her hands roaming up and down his chest almost idly.

"Damn, woman," he said in an unsteady exhalation as he let his forehead drop against hers.  "Goddamn . . ."

"Hmm, not bad, Roka," she mused, her hands reaching around him, trailing her fingers up and down his spine.  "Not bad . . ."

He snorted, lifting his head to pin her with a cocky grin.  "Not bad?" he echoed incredulously.  "That's all you've got to say about it?  Not bad?"

"It was fine for starters," she went on.  "Are you telling me that it was your best?"

"That's some pretty big talk from a person who used to believe that women didn't really have orgasms," he pointed out.

She wrinkled her nose, a devilish sparkle illuminating her gaze.  "I faked those," she lied.

He reached out to grab her.  She shrieked and tried to clamor away from him.  He held on and kissed her again.  "You're a damn liar," he insisted.

"Maybe," she relented, leaning up to kiss him back.  

"I could go again, you know," he grumbled, closing his eyes for a moment, savoring the feel of her before he gave her a quick kiss and carefully eased himself out of her.  Gritting his teeth against the rioting protests of his nerves, he sat up to get rid of the used condom.

"So, rockstar," she said, her voice throaty, intimate like a caress.  He could feel her sit up but didn't look to verify it as he leaned over to snag a new condom from the nightstand.  "You going to tell me that's all you've got?"

"Oh, not even close, V," he assured her, grasping the corner of the packet between his teeth to rip it open.

She uttered a little laugh and wrapped her arms around him again, content for the moment to nuzzle his neck.  "Good because it's still early, and we've got all night.  Don't worry, though. I promise I won't rub your nose in it too much if you can't keep up with me."

Chuckling at her not-so-subtle challenge, Evan slowly shook his head.  "Is that right?"

She bit down on his shoulder then laughed again, and he raised an eyebrow when he saw the fire igniting behind her gaze once more.  "Yeah," she promised, reaching out, turning his face with gentle fingers so she could kiss him.  "That's right."


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A/N:
'She's So Mean' by Matchbox Twenty originally appeared on the 2012 release, North.  Copyrighted to Kyle Cook, Paul Doucett, and Rob Thomas.
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Final
Thought from Valerie:
Wow …
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Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in
Subterfuge):  I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga.  Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al.  I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.
~Sue~
Chapter 203
Chapter 205
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