InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Vying for Dominance ❯ In This Moment ( Chapter 7 )

<u>In This Moment</u>

 

 

The world had been swept away. All she knew was the strength of his body as he held hers, the heat that flowed through her veins in thick pulses of liquid fire and burning passion, and the driven need to push beyond all boundaries, to forget restraint, to thrive in the moment as she never had, as she had never been given the opportunity to.

 

For so long she had fought, battled impossible odds, been caught in the terrible hands of fate. For so long she had been denied the ability to live a normal life; always looking out for others, casting aside her own needs and desires, giving all of herself and receiving nothing in return. For so long.

 

It hadn't mattered then. She was bound by duty, responsibility, and things even more powerful. It hadn't mattered that over and over again her heart had been broken, her hopes and dreams dashed and lost. It hadn't mattered because she knew her path, knew that no matter the consequences she would fight until the end to see the terrible wrong she had committed set right.

 

But it was different now. For this night, in this moment, she was allowed to feel, allowed to be fragile, to give herself over to her own desires. And he had given that to her, this moment of freedom, this time apart from the battles and the pain and the struggle, this time to simply be, to feel, to live freely. Maybe it was only a moment, meant to only be a memory in the cold of the nights to come; but it didn't matter, because in this moment she was free.

 

Such care he had taken with her, his touch so gentle even though he held the power to easily destroy her. Even through the pain, knowing that it was his strength that held her steady, that wanted to; it was empowering, to be so weak and yet with such strength a creature of untold power would take the time and care to treat her so delicately, to hold back against the burn of his own desires to sooth her, calm her with his tender touch, make her forget what pain was when he took her above it all into the realm of rapture.

 

Never had she known such ecstasy, such uninhibited pleasure. And it was only just the beginning.

 

She had been so lost in mindless euphoria, her body still coursing with shuddering pulses of heat and her vision overtaken by flashes of light she wasn't sure were coming from her, that she had hardly recognized the loss of the cold stream of water, hardly knew that he had lifted her against him again. But still she melted into his embrace, yielding to his demands without contest at the same time as making demands of her own. Her arms wrapped around his neck without thought, her mouth seeking his again to take in more of his heat, to fill her with the burn of his poison.

 

The barriers between them had been lost, abandoned in the water without care; and with every motion she could feel her skin against his, feel the heat of his body meeting and mingling with her own. She hugged him closer, her legs wrapping around his hips to give her more contact, to feel more of the perfect hardness of his body as she pressed against him.

 

It was never close enough. She wanted more, needed more.

 

A low growl suddenly broke through the soft vibrations of pleasure that had been rumbling through his chest, and she pulled back slightly in shock. Dazedly, her eyes lifted to meet his, curious but never fearing the burning crimson that she found there.

 

“Take more care, miko.” There was no anger in his voice, but the cutting edge of it spoke greatly of his displeasure.

 

Her features drawing tight in confusion as she tried to focus on something beyond sensation, it took Kagome a moment to realize that her right hand was gripping tightly to his left shoulder. She drew in a sharp breath when she saw the concentrated burn of white light coursing from her hand in rippling waves and flowing over his severed arm. Immediately she pulled it back into herself, but even so, she could see the crimson burn of his power expanding to fill the field of containment that her powers had created, his fight against the pure light causing new growth as the fires took over.

 

When she looked backed to him, her expression was troubled. “I don't understand,” she told him in a small voice filled with uncertainty. “Why is it alright for you to heal me, but not for me to do the same for you?”

 

He let out a slow breath, blinking away the crimson burn in his eyes to lock her in his steady gaze of placid gold. “It is different,” he told her slowly as he carefully tilted her and began lowering her body down to rest in the soft bed of fine silks and downy furs. Once she was settled beneath him, he lifted his hand to brush softly against the side of her face. “Whether you knew it or not, you were fighting for me. To heal your wounds was my way of showing you my appreciation. My arm was lost in a battle not of your making, but my own. Had it not been for this wound I would have taken your life on that day, and you would not be with me now.”

 

She understood what he was saying, she really did, but she just couldn't accept it. “Why continue punishing yourself for something so long past? I don't bear you any grudge for what happened.”

 

He wasn't looking at her, his eyes following the path of his hand as it brushed along her cheek to set and unruly lock of damp hair behind her ear. His lips lifted in a ghost of a smile as he replied, “I know. But the choice is not yours to make.”

 

Releasing a soft sigh of resignation, she nodded in understanding. The fact that he had only one arm didn't bother him, the loss itself meant very little if anything at all; but it was what he had gained because of it that he would remember; the knowledge, the experiences, the way he could push himself to new limits, find new strength in places he had never thought to look.

 

It was his choice, and she wouldn't go against his wishes. But that she obviously had such little control over herself when he was so expertly distracting her from everything would prove a problem; however, not one that she didn't have an answer for. Lifting her hand from her side, she placed it lightly against his chest. “Do it again.” When he looked at her in confusion, she only smiled. “You growled. It means something, doesn't it? Every sound, it's like your talking, only without words. I may not be able to understand it completely, but I can remember that sound and know what you are saying without you having to stop to tell me.”

 

The look he was giving her, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing, so completely shocked and not bothering at all to hide it; sent her into a light bout of giggles. Never had she seen him look so baffled, and she highly doubted any other had. The way his eyes widened, his mouth parting but lacking any words and leaving only one fang exposed; it was actually cute, a description so unbefitting the Aristocratic Assassin that she had to forceably reign in her laughter lest she loose the priceless moment.

 

“It's hard for you,” she whispered as she brought her hand to the side of his face to trace along the velvety markings that ran along his cheeks, “When you have to pull back and reset this mask. I know what you are, and I would never want you to be anything less. So help me to understand so that you don't have to try so hard.”

 

For a second, she though he was almost returning the smile she was giving him, but then he broke his eyes away from hers, leaning into the soft caress of her hand and closing his eyes. She could feel the shift of his energies beneath her fingers, feel the flawless smooth of his markings grow ragged as they twisted and spread across his skin. When he opened his eyes again, no longer were they molten pools of gold, but fiery depths of burning crimson.

 

And still she smiled, because she knew; knew the beast that lay beneath the surface, knew the burn of its power, knew that beneath his flawless complexion and the image of dignity, grace, and beauty, that there was something stronger, more primal, more feral. But it didn't matter, because that was him, and it was he that she wanted, all that he had to offer.

 

His low growl sent shivers racing across her skin, and she understood its warning. There was danger in that sound, so low and fierce there could be no mistaking its true nature, or his. But for her it did not invoke fear. It was exhilarating, leaving her breathless and awed. Because she knew that he was telling her something that she should never know, sharing with her more than words or feelings. Even if it was only a warning, something to tell her that she must pull back; that it was his true voice, not words formed in her mortal tongue, made it so much more real, gave it so much more meaning.

 

But then, words could never convey all the meaning they should; and in this moment, words were no longer necessary. Lifting herself up, she told him all of her gratitude, her wonder, her desire, and her passion in the form of her kiss.

 

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I protest the idea that this is the longest lemon ever. Love Has Nothing to do with This was way longer than this one. It took, what? Like 19 chapters of foreplay before I ever got to the point, and then there was four chapters of pure smut following…and several more after that? Yeah, that one was way worse. Besides, it's easier for me to write shorter scenes. I don't get flustered beyond saving this way, and I think that the finished product turns out all the better for it because I don't skip through things quickly just to spare myself from melting into a steamy pile of listless womany goo. And, since I'm so kind, I share my progress with my readers :) Well…that and I like to get feedback for my troubles (I shouldn't be the only one feeling the burn of this story, after all ;P)

 

Anyways, the waiting will come to an end next chapter. I just felt the need to have a chapter completely from Kagome's perspective after getting sidetracked with one wholly from Sesshomaru's POV. It would be a pretty one-sided lemon scene if I only covered one of them XD

 

Right, well, I'm off to bed. Later Days

 

Shadow