Stealing Heaven by Freya Ishtar

Sinfully Sweet Imagining

Chapter Sixteen

Sinfully Sweet Imagining

Sango twitched a sleepy brow, glancing over at Kagome for the umpteenth time. The girl was squirming in her sleep, which meant it was either a very bad dream . . . or a very good one.

With her friend's predicament, she wasn't entirely certain she wanted to know which it was.

* * * * *

"Professor, take a look at this," Kagome said, pouring over the translations one last time.

They were in The Thief's sacrificial chamber, saying their final farewells to the site and making certain they had all of their materials in order for the purpose of turning the excavation over to the next research team. Nah Rah Ku hadn't made anymore appearances since that dreadful night he'd banished Lyka. She wasn't entirely certain how she felt about that, either. Of course, she was relieved, but then she was also a little regretful about it—she still wanted him gone, but she couldn't honestly say she hadn't come to enjoy particular aspects of his visits—and she was definitely nervous. After staving off his hunger for so long, she couldn't help being worried that when he did come back, he'd be ravenous. If that was so, then she wasn't at all confident that he wouldn't be so blinded by his own hunger that he might try to take more than she'd been willing to offer him.

"Something wrong?" Professor Taisho asked, coming across the chamber to stand behind her, peering down over her shoulder.

"Well, I . . . ." Feeling a bit shy, she flicked a glance up at him—he was standing oddly close—and cleared her throat, trying to push the sudden upwelling of giddy butterflies in her stomach aside. "I'm wondering why there are no details about who recorded the inscriptions. Am I missing something? There's no kind of . . . personal slant to the telling to give an indication. I mean, if all the people involved in the story were killed, then . . . who knew enough of the specifics to place blame where it belonged?"

"Unfortunately, this is what we usually find with most such recordings." He reached an arm around her, lightly placing a hand over hers where her fingers held the page. "As the priest and the sacrifices are the only ones from the story that have been found, it stands to reason that perhaps the rest of the tale is just that, a tale. Perhaps the priest himself spun it, thus it would have been he who was seducing and murdering those women to support his own machinations but was not able to predict how the people would take it when he was forced to declare that he'd killed their 'deity' himself to explain away the lack of his existence."

She wished she didn't know enough of the truth behind this place to doubt his assessment. "I suppose you're right. I just . . . find it difficult to believe people could do that to a person over something they'd never actually seen." Without realizing what she was doing, the tip of one of her fingers was trailing gingerly over his still-healing bite mark.

He was so close behind her that she could feel him shrugging as he responded, "That is what makes faith such a dangerous thing. It's not belief in something that is bad, but it is the things people will lower themselves to doing all in name of what they believe in."

She'd swept her hair forward over one shoulder before he'd come to stand behind her and now was able to feel the warmth of his breath against the side of her throat when he spoke. The hard but fragile creases of his broken skin beneath the pad of her fingertip drew her attention just enough to keep her focused on the moment. "So, you, um . . . still don't know how you did this?"

He chuckled a little, pulling his hand from hers to hold it up in front of them, circling his other arm around her as well to trail the fingers of his other hand over the injury. "No, not a clue. Hojo said it looks like a bite mark, but I think I'd remember something like that. He seems to believe maybe I did it to myself in my sleep during a bad dream."

Kagome was fighting with herself not to lean back against him, but it was a fight she was slowly losing. There was a comfort in this lapse of his usually guarded nature. "Do you often have bad dreams?"

There was a long pause, and she couldn't help turning in his arms to face him.

"Sometimes," he finally said, the sadness in those amber eyes echoing that mournful look she'd seen from him only once before.

Against her better judgment, she raised a hand slowly, deliberately giving him time to pull away if he wished, and cupped a delicate hand against his cheek. It was a wonder to her to watch his eyes drift closed, to see the lids clench tightly, to hear the deep, rumbling breath that escaped him then. Whatever was hurting him so deeply . . . he wanted to tell her, he wanted to know he could confide it in her, she was unmistakably aware of this now.

And whatever else they imagined they were to one another, Kagome wanted to be the one he thought could help ease his suffering, if even in the smallest measure.

"Hey!"

They heard Miroku's voice echoing through the corridor and instantly jumped apart. It was a moment before he actually entered the chamber, giving them a second to both realize what might have just happened if not for the interruption.

She met the professor's gaze and by now she thought she understood him well enough to grasp the mingling emotions playing out behind his usually passive and detached expression. He was upset with himself for letting his guard down, for getting so close to her. Then there was true bewilderment. He was finally realizing that what she felt toward him was not a simple schoolgirl crush. It was not some passing infatuation, and she felt a little jab in her chest that she could tell he didn't know how to deal the changing dynamic of their once-so-platonic relationship.

Miroku stepped into the room at last, darting his gaze from Kagome to Professor Taisho and back again before dropping his eyes to the chamber floor. "The new team's here, we need to prep them and get on the road if we want to hit the airport in time to make all the security checks before boarding."

Nodding, Kagome turned back to the altar and scooped up the translations as the professor followed Miroku out into the corridor. She was glad now that she'd been put in a position to reveal that partial-truth to Miroku when she had—if not, he'd have simply ambled into the chamber and stumbled upon a very different scene. In his mind, he wasn't just keeping his word to Kagome, he was also allowing his boss to save face by pretending not to know, and that was fine with her.

She was a little heart-wrenched, though, pausing to trail her fingers along the entryway of the chamber before finally exiting. They were going home . . . and these close moments with Taisho Sesshomaru wouldn't happen anymore.

Kagome had been mulling over that close-call the entire time since; as they turned over the site, as they packed away their luggage, as they drove their rental truck back to that desolate hovel of a garage and fetched their long-prearranged return-ride to the airport. She wondered what might have been, what might have happened, had Miroku not interrupted then. Or what might have come of that close embrace had the professor not been given reason to become saddened. It was no wonder, with so much pondering over the matter, why her dream during the plane trip home was turning out this way.

Without realizing what she was doing, the tip of one of her fingers was trailing gingerly over his nearly-healed bite mark.

He was so close behind her that she could feel him shrugging as he responded, "That is what makes faith such a dangerous thing. It's not belief in something that is bad, but it is the things people will lower themselves to doing all in name of what they believe in."

She'd swept her hair forward over one shoulder before he'd come to stand behind her and now was able to feel the warmth of his breath against the side of her throat when he spoke. The hard but fragile creases of his broken skin beneath the pad of her fingertip drew her attention just enough to keep her focused on the moment. "So, you, um . . . still don't know how you did this?"

He chuckled a little, pulling his hand from hers to hold it up in front of them, circling his other arm around her as well to trail the fingers of his other hand over the injury. "No, not a clue. Hojo said it looks like a bite mark, but I think I'd remember something like that. He seems to believe maybe I did it to myself in my sleep during a bad dream."

Kagome was fighting with herself not to lean back against him, but it was a fight she was slowly losing. There was a comfort in this lapse of his usually guarded nature. She allowed it finally, drifting back slowly, giving him time to pull away from her if he wanted to, until she was nestled entirely against him.

"Higurashi . . ." he said in a low voice and she could feel the shuddering of his breath.

"Please," she whispered, closing her eyes, "just . . . for a minute?"

After a strained moment he nodded, his arms falling to circle her waist, holding her against him. "This isn't a wise thing to do."

A small giggle escaped her at that. "I know."

He gave a sigh that was a mix of contentment and resignation. Whatever she'd been expecting next, it was not to feel him lower his head and drag his lips down the side of her throat. She trembled against him, tipping her head away to offer more of her skin to his mouth. He responded instantly, parting his lips to trail the tip of his tongue over the delicate spot just below her ear.

"So, this is . . . probably not a wise thing to do, either," she mumbled, reaching back to link her hands behind his neck.

"Definitely not," he replied quietly, tugging her shirt from the waist band of her jeans to trail his fingertips over the bare skin of her stomach.

"This is a pretty sight."

Kagome felt her heart slam against her ribcage for a moment—that was Nah Rah Ku's voice, but not the voice she heard in the moments the professor was possessed. This was his voice as she'd heard it in her dreams from Lyka.

"Go away," Professor Taisho grumbled, seeming reluctant to give up his current activity.

Kagome was trying, suddenly, almost irrationally, to turn to face the demon, but the professor wouldn't relinquish his hold, which resulted in an awkward maneuver of her dropping her arms to grasp his and moving the stubborn man with her until they were both facing Nah Rah Ku. She wanted to slap herself instantly for noting that The Thief was, in fact, devastatingly handsome. She would have laughed at the thought going through her head that she was trapped between a rock and a hard place if it wasn't for the professor's . . . rather telling closeness behind her.

"I think not," Nah Rah Ku said with a small grin as he stepped further into the chamber. "You are playing with what is mine."

Kagome opened her mouth to yell at him, but the professor had already lifted his head a bit, informing the demon in a markedly disinterested tone, "I'm not playing and she's not yours. She only allows you to touch her because you use my face when you do it."

The demon laughed—a deep, genuine sound of mirth—and stepped directly up to the pair. "Is this really so? From the look in her eyes, I would wager . . . ." He scooped up Kagome's hand delicately in his and pulled it up, dragging her fingertips along his face. "She seems to appreciate my own visage equally."

She was too dazed by the scenario to pull her hand away, turning her head in skittering motions to look between Professor Taisho and Nah Rah Ku a few times. "I'm not anyone's," she hissed in an angry whisper.

"Believe what you like, little priestess," Nah Rah Ku murmured.

Kagome was aware in that moment of the release of that annoyingly wonderful power The Thief possessed and she felt the instant response of her body to his presence, felt that delicious, pulsing warmth starting between her legs. She couldn't help slumping back against the professor's body, cradling hers as it already was. There was a satisfied grumble of sound from behind her and Professor Taisho turned her in his arms, raising his hands to cup her face, lifting it to bring his lips crashing down on hers.

She gasped into him, unable to stop herself from darting her tongue into his mouth, caressing his. Before she knew it, she was clawing at the buttons of his shirt, raking at the material to get it out of her way. She barely noticed the press of another body behind hers until she felt Nah Rah Ku's hardened length against her bottom through their suddenly very irritating clothing.

Wrenching her mouth from Professor Taisho's, she eeked out in a breathless whisper, "Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

"Hmph," Nah Rah Ku muttered, using a hand to tip her head to one side, "and here I thought such things were every woman's fantasy."

She couldn't help the moan that escaped her as he bit down gently on the side of her throat or the way it caused her body to tremble against both of theirs. Fantasy . . . her mind echoed the word dully as the professor finally aided her attempts to remove his shirt, peeling it back and dropping it behind him on the altar.

It struck Kagome then in an odd, distant way that she was dreaming. The Thief had his own body, that should have been proof enough—as should the idea of him being willing to share her—but at first it had simply made sense in that strange way that ridiculous things always made sense in dreams.

She spared a moment to look up at the professor to find him already staring down into her eyes, his lids drooping, his golden-olive cheeks just a little flushed. This was a dream and she had Professor . . . no, no. She had Taisho Sesshomaru in front of her and a dream-fabricated version of Nah Rah Ku behind her. A version that couldn't harm her.

It was a shameful notion, but she couldn't hold back the sheepish, embarrassed grin curving her lips at the idea of indulging this fantasy.

Leaning back against Nah Rah Ku, she held Sesshomaru's gaze as she tugged up her shirt, giving the demon a moment to pull his face away from her neck, and whipped it up over her head, letting it drop to the floor. "Mmm, that is the spirit," she heard in a gravelly whisper behind her as Nah Rah Ku circled her with his arms, pushing her bra up and out of the way to cup her breasts in his hands.

Sesshomaru's eyes narrowed in a hint of anger as he watched this before leaning forward to capture her mouth in another deep, hungry kiss. He reached an arm down, grasping one of her legs and pulling it up to rest over his hip. A little whimpering moan sounded in the back of her throat at the feel of him beginning to grind his already so wonderfully hard length against her.

Nah Rah Ku chuckled quietly, murmuring in her ear, "Did I not tell you your professor was quite the naughty-minded one?"

She couldn't focus on the words with Sesshomaru's tongue thrusting into her mouth, with the demon's claws tickling over her nipples in delicate, teasing circles. The sweet, pulsing ache building between her legs forced her hips into motion, rocking her against Sesshomaru.

"Oh, no," Nah Rah Ku breathed the sound against her ear as he slid a hand from her breast, dragging it down along her body to grasp roughly between her legs, just above where her rocking form was pressed so firmly to Sesshomaru's.

Biting gently into the side of her throat he worked his fingers hard against her, compensating for the thick fabric of her jeans, forcing the girl to tremble violently between them once more. He dropped his other hand from her breast as well, but only for a moment, only long enough to clasp one of her hands and bring her unresisting fingers to rest over his hardened length behind her.

Kagome couldn't help herself from moving her fingers, stroking them over him—somewhat clumsily, she was sure—as she slid her other hand behind Sesshomaru's neck to steady herself. By the time he broke the kiss she felt certain her lips must be bruised.

Maneuvering his head to capture her gaze with his own, Sesshomaru slid his hands over her hips, pulling her harder against him. The tip of his tongue flicked over her lips as he whispered, "This . . . this is a piece of you he hasn't touched."

Though confused, she nodded, blinking almost drowsily as she tried to keep her eyes locked on his.

"Then," he steadied her hips only to begin driving himself more sharply against her, giving a faint, self-satisfied smirk at the moan it elicited from her, "this is the part of you I want."

She offered another dim nod, feeling a bit hazy as he dropped her leg and stepped back from her a little, bumping back against the altar. That tiny, nagging voice in the back of her mind was reminding her that of course she already knew what he looked like naked after Nah Rah Ku being so liberal with his form in the shower that day as she watched Sesshomaru slowly undo his pants and push them—and whatever might have been under them—over his hips and down his legs. In that convenient way of dreams, he wasn't wearing shoes, so nothing hindered him from kicking his pants off after they'd fallen to pool around his ankles to leave him standing before her completely unfettered.

Instantly the demon's hands ceased working her flesh, barely giving her the moment she needed to salivate over what she was staring at, only to begin removing the remains of her ever-so-bothersome clothing, as well. She glanced over her shoulder at Nah Rak Ku, the only one of them now still dressed—albeit hardly so, in that he was clad in the traditional, brightly bead-adorned hide loincloth she'd seen him wearing in her Lyka-given dreams.

"You think he is the only one who gets to enjoy this?" The Thief murmured smoothly, stepping back from her as well, but only to lower himself slowly to the chamber floor.

She held back a nervous giggle when Nah Rah Ku took her hand and led her close to him as he laid on his back. Smiling a tad greedily at her, he guided her to kneel, positioning her over his mouth. His arms wound up around her thighs, parting delicate feminine flesh, and a pleasant shudder rocked through her as he sealed his lips around the sensitive little bead to begin suckling and flicking his tongue over it.

A loud, echoing moan tore out of her before she managed to force open eyes that had seemed to squeeze closed of their own accord to look up at Sesshomaru standing before her. He took the single, needed, step closer to her and she reached out with lightly trembling hands to touch him. She was equal parts nervous and curious as she let her fingers wander his length. It was a wonder to her that she could function at all with the demon's mouth working at her so expertly.

Blue eyes turned a little frightened suddenly as she gazed up into those amber orbs. "I . . . I don't know. I've never . . . ." She paused, giving another moan as she began rocking her hips against the ministrations of Nah Rah Ku's tongue.

Sesshomaru leaned down a little, pressing a finger to her lips and using his other hand to guide her wandering fingers to wrap around the base of him. "Shhhh, don't be afraid. We have dreams to help us work out things that we don't fully understand, don't we?"

She nodded against his finger—dimly wondering how much of a closet-perv she was becoming to have a dream like this—and he slid his hands from her. Sighing a little to release some of her nervous tension, she lifted him to her lips to gently kiss the tip of him. She was constantly, acutely aware of the motions of the demon's mouth against her, forcing sweet little shocks of pleasure to run through her even as she parted her lips to take the tip of Sesshomaru's length into her mouth.

Sesshomaru uttered a deep, pained groan as she moved further, taking as much of him into her mouth as she could. Instantly she understood why he'd wrapped her hand around him and she moved it in unison with her lips to work her way back down his length. He made another deep, rumbling noise, raising his hands to gently cup the back of her head. The sound and the action created a little thrill within her that only combined with the delicious ripples Nah Rah Ku's mouth was causing and she let her eyes drift closed. She took a cue from the demon, mimicking the lapping motions of his tongue with her own against the delicate underside of Sesshomaru's length as she worked her mouth and hand along him in as much of a rhythm as she could manage.

Distantly she heard a hungry growl beneath her, feeling Nah Rah Ku's claws digging into her skin as he picked up his pace, catching that precious little bead between his teeth and suckling harder at it. Kagome trembled violently, forced to still her motions, to let Sesshomaru slip from her mouth as she cried out. She tried, clumsily, to compensate with the fingers still grasping his length as the orgasm tore through her. The demon slipped his hands over her hips, rocking her once more against the working of his mouth as the delicious tremors danced through her system.

The moment it began to ebb, the instant she was able to move around the sweet, bright pleasure he was causing, she took Sesshomaru into her mouth again. He let out a shuddering gasp above her, his head falling back as she worked his length with her mouth and the guiding aid of her own hand. The grunting, rumbling noises coming out of him, the feel of his fingers tightening as they gripped into the hair at the back of her head, drove her on even as she began, once more, rocking her hips of her own accord against the demon's tongue that was nursing her through the precious, glimmering aftershocks of her orgasm.

She felt the delicate, velvety flesh against her tongue begin to ripple, felt the hips of the man before her begin to thrust forward into her mouth in helpless, jerking thrusts. Though she wasn't really prepared for it, she braced herself as well as she could, trying not to let her motions falter as he stilled and released into her. She fought not to let herself gag, swallowing it down as she continued taking him into her mouth, continued moving her hand over him until he was completely spent.

Finally, he slid his hands forward from her hair to gently cup her face, extracting himself from her lips and stumbling back a little to lean against the altar. His breath was coming out in harsh, ragged rushes of sound as he lifted his eyes to meet hers.

A tiny hint of half-smile curved a corner of Sesshomaru's lips as he murmured, "Understand that despite him," his amber gaze flickered somewhat unhappily to the demon beneath her, who— embarrassingly enough—was still lapping at her, "I still think of you as mine."

* * * * *

"Higurashi!"

Kagome jumped, immediately shrinking back into her airline seat as she opened her eyes to see those same amber orbs peering just a touch sleepily at her.

"I didn't mean to startle you, you were just so deeply asleep." He slipped the fingers he'd touched to her knee away as he continued, "We're home."

She nodded as she pushed the flimsy, airplane issued blanket aside and pulled herself to sit up. She turned to see Sango blinking questioningly at her as the professor moved on to begin pulling down some of the carry-on luggage.

"W—what?" Kagome stammered.

Brown eyes darted around briefly before Sango toward her, her voice a mere breath of sound, "You are going to have to tell me what that dream was about."

A blush immediately flooded Kagome's cheeks—closet-perv!—as she stammered some more, whispering as well, "Oh, no. Tell me I wasn't talking in my sleep!"

"No, no." Sango chuckled quietly. "But you were squirming, like . . . a lot. I was undecided before, but now I think I have just got to hear this one."

"Sure." Kagome managed to laugh at herself. "If I can work up the courage to explain it out loud."

She took a moment to gather herself—to be certain the dream hadn't left her trembling and shaky-legged in reality—before rising from her seat to help with the luggage. We're home, her mind echoed as she shouldered her bag. They were home and she knew why the demon had been in that dream. She staunchly avoided wondering how things in her sleepy imaginings would have gone if not for his presence there.

He'd been there, getting between her and Taisho Sesshomaru as much as he could because, just as she'd been fearing, they'd brought The Thief of Bliss home with them.