To Be Worthy by videokilledtheradio

What He Wants

Chapter 1:

A/N: Well, I'm not sure the first chapter is too great, but I hope you'll bear with me. For those of you who do not know, yes I have another account on this site with a story that begins in a very or slightly similar manner. Yet, I feel I am in need of a fresh start and now that my writing skills have improved somewhat I'm attempting to re-write this and make it better. Maybe I'll use parts of the same plot but it is more than likely I won't. I can guarantee you it will be different. Hopefully, this one turns out more to my satisfaction. Thanks and enjoy!

The sensation was intense, a mixture of gut-wrenching want, unfulfilled lust and a maddening sense of physical awareness. Had he felt in such a manner at any other given time in his existence he would have attributed the feelings to the category of pain, but his current situation spoke differently. No, he knew this to be an exquisitely agonizing storm of pleasure, shaking his soul from its very foundations. Drawing himself once again away from the sea of sensation, the revered Taiyoukai of the west glanced beneath him at the display of utter femininity. Yes, underneath him was Kami's own flawless female specimen, her crown of full, flowing raven tresses spread beneath her in a most tantalizing manner, accented brilliantly by the reigning moonlight and crimson silk bedding. Full, petal-pink lips parted and clouded sapphire eyes gazed up at him, rewarding his sensitive hearing with a deep, throaty moan.

Responding with his own more masculine grunt of satisfaction, the silver inu managed to drag his own fervently protesting body away from the female for a moment to remove his garb. Task completed, he once again joined the woman who graced his bed, now as nude as she, sliding himself atop her and massaging her full bosom gently. Amber eyes, rimmed with a primal pink, watched in utter fascination as rosy nipples stiffened becoming two small rock-like peaks under his attention. Dipping his head, the dog prince made sure to tickle the onna's delightfully toned stomach with his lengthy silver tresses as he buried his flushed face between her twin peaks. Smirking wolfishly against her skin, he traced the twitching flesh of her smooth thigh with a dangerously clawed hand. Raising his regal head once more, the merciless lord gazed down at the blushing face and tightly closed eyes of his woman and growled one, nearly indecipherable word, "Open."

Now able to glance into her pleading eyes, the lord gorged himself on her want, on her helplessness before swooping down as predatorily as a falcon on a field mouse and cementing his thin lips to her own parted pair. Entrance to her sweet oral cavern was not asked for but demanded, taken without inhibition. Pressing his own pink appendage against that of the goddess sprawled beneath him; he soothingly massaged her tongue, coaxing her out of her shell into full-blown participation. The heated facial battle lasted several minutes before both had to pull away in need of oxygen. At the precise moment the demonic male decided he had had quite enough foreplay, he was floored as the onna beneath him displayed surprising strength in flipping him onto his back, positioning herself so that she was scandalously straddling his lean waist.

Inner demon quite incensed at the mere idea of taking the role of the submissive partner, he was only a moment away from roughly flipping his bitch when he felt a most pleasurable ripple through his loins, leading to the decision that he would play along with the woman, at least for now. Eyes now shaded a deep, demonic red, the lord watched the tantalizing actions of the petite woman as he ran his rough, dog like tongue over elongated fangs, drawing the slightest bit of his own blood and relishing the coppery taste. A satisfied rumble tore through his being at the feeling of the girl's blunt nails tracing red patterns over his twinging abdominal region and muscled thighs. With each rotation of her delicate hand, the woman would come closer and closer to his throbbing member, bringing him to the brink of insanity.

No longer able to stand the torture he shot his muscled arm downwards at an unmentionable speed, jerkily grasping the girl's wrist in a crushing grip before releasing a primal snarl and placing her soft palm against his aching dick and tightly wrapping her fingers around the girth. His hand atop of hers, he showed her the way in which he liked to be stroked before releasing her to continue without his aid and once again resting himself on the bed. Never a sexually patient being, the silver haired lover propped himself up upon his forearm and watched intently as his onna massaged him. Mesmerized, he looked on as the girl bent her head, eyes still locked on his pulsating shaft before quickly darting her tiny tongue across the tear-shaped slit of the head. It was then that the reigns of his control flew from his grasp, leaving him panting with what seemed to be insatiable need.

Sitting up suddenly, the lustful ruler gave his female a hard shove, easily knocking her to her hands and knees, a position from which she instinctually knew better than to rise. Eyes blazing, the wildly unrestrained inuyoukai stalked quietly behind his bitch, rose to his knees and positioned himself against her dripping slit. Bending forward so as to cage her body within his own form, the dog demon pulled his hips backwards, gave a reassuring growl to his lover and thrust forward in one strong push.

Molten amber eyes snapped open, taking in the direct visage of the high stone ceiling positioned loftily above him. Baring his fangs at some invisible aggitant, the mighty silver inu untangled himself from the bed sheets, a look of particularly strained indifference painted across his chiseled features. Feet planted firmly on the moist stone of which the chamber floor consisted, he glanced around the room as he always did, compulsively making sure everything was in order. It was. The mighty oaken entrance door was heaved shut and bolted as he preferred it to be in times which he sought privacy, not that any creature would be truly foolish enough to disturb him. Directly across from said door sat a varnished cherry wood dresser, spacious enough to hold at least twenty sets of clothing each consisting of haori, hakama and obi as well as training garb, extra pairs of polished black leather boots, an extra armored chest plate and several odds and ends which he rarely found use for. A healthy sized hearth was positioned in the middle of the adjoining wall, encircled by two plush cushioned chairs; one which he himself sat upon and the other buried under mounds of open texts, scattered scrolls and scratch parchment. The floor around the area was no better, with stacks of commonly referenced tomes jutting up like pillars. Opposite the fireplace was the grand, four poster bed he had recently inhabited, donned with numerous furs, linens and silks. A varnished night stand stood aside the mattress, housing a melted down candle and its brass holder, an inscribed dagger and a basin of cool water. The only other piece of furniture was a simple desk pushed away into a corner; in all honesty he wondered why he still kept the thing. It wasn't as if he did much work here aside from personal endeavors.

Walking over to the tediously engraved cherry-wood dressing chest, the inu lord of the west gave the polished knob a quick jerk. Now wide open, amber eyes stared blankly into the blackness that seemed to designate the spacious inside of the chest. Knocking the creaky door backwards several more inches in what could only be considered a careless maneuver he snatched a pair of loose training hakamas up with his one calloused hand, stepping into them before sliding them upwards over his still aching erection. Hissing at the sensation which the coarse fabric straining against his tender head created, an awkward knot was formed using a matching obi. Not bothering to close the antique latching the mistakenly celestial being pushed aside the light spring screen blocking his path and paced out upon his personal balcony.

Taking a quick account of the dwelling he surmised that everything was as it had always been. Chiseled marble posts supported a regally molded railing situated several feet above the smooth white marble that created the structure's surface. Molten orbs diving over the perfectly cut edge, the eyes of the youngest cardinal lord fell upon the springy green scene of the garden below. Although night had fallen some time ago the dog prince was still easily able to pick out the outlines of blossoming sakura trees, the figures of the billowing willows and the various shades of wildflower thickly covering the ground. Turning towards the gusting night breeze wafting from the north, he silently inhaled the familiar earthy scent of the western lands. Mmm, although he would never attribute to it any such properties the fragrance calmed him enough to will away his throbbing erection for the current moment. Yet, that was not to say it wouldn't return with a vengeance on a second's notice. Feeling the final vestibules of arousal ebb away, the merciless Taiyoukai paced forward several steps, stopping abruptly to shift his weight, leaning forward with the residual support of the stone railing.

At first, his thoughts of the girl had been sporadic enough; rare enough to allow him to easily and comfortably attribute them to curiosity. Simple things such as the purpose of that horribly exposing green and white garb, her mysterious customs or her odd way of speech. Natural enough he was sure. Following soon after such reassurances he found his curiosity spawning to interest based on the girl's mysterious intelligence. How was one so young a master of such sums the likes of which would be envied by even the most ancient demonic scholars? Where had the onna learned to decipher so precisely the thickly bound texts she hauled about in that yellow knapsack contraption? Who had taught her hand such neatly executed perfectly curved feminine script? From there it had been a short romp up the proverbial stairs of infatuation, a passage which quickly lead him to the pinnacle of obsession.

Sharpened orbs drifting closed in attempt to stall such oncoming thoughts he could once again see the exquisitely formed visage of the onna that seemed permanently burnt into his retina. Her wide, almond shaped eyes were something he had yet to witness on another and it was his personal opinion that even if said 'other' did exist the creature would not wear them half as well. No, the sparkling orbs were uniquely her own. Even the color, the reflective sapphire, was unusual in the line of dark, chocolate tinted eyes the women of his homeland possessed. Framed by long, raven lashes they seemed perfectly set in the expanse of her face, placed a fair distance above the small, feminine nose and full, petal-pink lips. The woman's small ears were hidden by her luscious crown of obsidian tresses which fell just below her shoulder blades. Once again, it was unusual, but as he saw it not impractical, for an onna to wear locks short of her ankles. Hm, he had never been fond of the look himself; it had always seemed pointless for one to have so much of something so useless. Thus, he kept his own batch of silvery strands promptly chopped at mid-back.

Not to digress, the girl's elegantly slender neck was of a reasonable length and was matched well with her delicate, womanly shoulders. From such shoulders sprung thin, yet powerful arms, each ending in a set of long, dainty fingers. Naturally proper posture, a trait which soothed his aggitant of slouching, served to beautifully display her perky breasts. Unlike many, the miko was not cursed with a bosom so full that it would sag shamefully with age nor one so miniscule it was unbecoming. After more thought than he was willing to admit to on the matter, the infamous western lord had come to the conclusion that such assets would perfectly nourish any pups time may provide her with. Mind moving ever downward, he mentally traced the smooth plain of her stomach which sat nimbly atop wide, rounded hips. Hips which, he knew, would serve excellently for mating and child birthing. Pleased with his own line of thought, he swiftly completed his mental painting with the appropriate long, lean legs.

All in all, any fool would admit the young priestess looked much more natural and well-nourished than any of the demonic ladies of the cardinal court. Thankfully, the girl seemed to be uninterested in what seemed to be the new trend of spending one's time concealed from natural sunlight in hopes of gaining a fairer complexion. If by fairer complexion the founders had meant sallow, unhealthy skin, he fully agreed with their methods. No, the holy maiden's flesh had always been, even in the winter months, stained a light, glowing brown as a result of the sun's golden rays. Feeling a certain part of his regal anatomy beginning to stiffen at the thought of exploring such heavenly skin, the western lord took a deep shuddering breath, reigning in his lusts with the meager amount of control that was left to him after such an enticing dream. In an attempt to direct his train of thought to something relatively less provocative, the dog prince scoffed at his former comparison. Truly, it wasn't even practical to compare his current obsession with those courtly objects of ire. When all was said and done, the miko was simply in a much higher league.

No, it really was an unfair balance. Unable to keep his male mind from straying back to just a few more of the differences he found most favorable, he allowed himself to once again slip into unrestrained thought. Now, where was he...oh, yes; the girl's tightly toned muscles, the reward or perhaps simply affect of days and days of travel stood proudly among the unfavorable forms of the demon women. While some of their number never found reason to transport themselves more than five paces at a time leaving them grotesquely obese, others refused to eat entirely thus dooming themselves to an existence of pure starvation and a countenance of boney framework. He was more than sure the young priestess would never find this to be a problem, for while she was not ashamed to display her healthy appetite, she also participated in much physical activity. Perhaps it was just another personal preference, but he had always favored a healthy, muscled bitch to a frail, meager one; it was simply more practical that way. Thankfully, the object of his interest seemed to also exempt herself from another appliqué he felt distasteful, that of customary cosmetics. The foul paint and mess offended his delicate sense to such a degree that he was often apt to wonder how any female could tolerate such reeking muck spread across her face. The attraction had never been there for him. If the creator had intended onnas to prance about with deathly pale faces and gaudy blushes, he would have birthed them that way. Hm, yes, the only tint the miko had was that of the natural flush that always seemed to stain her cheeks. Indeed if his observations were correct, said rosy coloring was deepened when the girl found herself embarrassed or irate.

Yes, in his mind she was the absolute embodiment of the perfect female specimen. It was nearly unbelievable to him that she was human and if not for his assuredness in his no doubt dubious sense of smell he would have deemed it a lie. No, humans were surrounded by the stink of death and rotting flesh as well as the putrid fragrance of greed and volatile passions. But she, she possessed the pleasing scent of lavender, blended with the scent of a dewy spring morning and the singular allure of mint. It was a gift which she alone could lay claim to.

Women of his own station seemed to come in two forms. The first was robust, pudgy even, and pranced foolishly about with lips unevenly painted and cheeks caked with powder. Sallow skin was their trademark, as well as unguarded bags of stretched out flesh hanging precariously adjacent to each of their stubby limbs. Such females thrived fully and completely upon attentions, whether false of genuine. It was hardly ever they left their chambers without a bevy of six of seven serving maids pretending, very poorly, to hang on each word of gossip or complaint that spilled from their useless lips. Such types always seemed to find themselves in need of something and it was hardly rare for him to overhear a nagging or pleading argument to be gifted with finer silks, more jewels and blocks of gold and silvers, fancy foreign trinkets or expensively decorated ornaments. The second presented themselves in a nearly starved fashion with hollow sockets and paper-like peeling skin. Such females were more often than not prone to fainting spells, illness or any other malady of a theatrical nature. Pomp seemed to run through their death-like countenances naturally, presenting itself in the form of useless and talentless displays of supposedly admirable accomplishment, in which it was not uncommon for him to find absence. But, the miko had not been brought up in the court and thus contained an immeasurable amount of patience as well as the ability to find pleasure in the simplest of things.

She would make a most excellent mother; maternal instincts seemed to flow through her veins like water through a gushing stream. Many a time he had wondered if the girl knew what an oddity it was for a human woman, a priestess at that, to take upon herself the role of caretaker for such a young demonic kit. His best guess would be that she did not, yet she treated the child as her own taking the good along with the bad. It was obvious she cared for the thing, teaching it and taking care of any minor injuries it might sustain in an ever so common bout of childish clumsiness. She made sure he washed, fed him heartily and many a time coddled the child back from the precipice of hysteria, one usually the direct result of the offensive babblings of his hanyou half sibling. More than once he had seen the girl throw herself recklessly into danger's path in hopes of saving the kit from some painfully undesirable fate and more than once he had been witness to the injuries she herself sustained. Thus, it only left him to wonder as to her actions with a pup of her own blood.

If he had ever been under the illusion that all females were docile, meager creatures, the whole framework of his belief had been shattered with one glance of the boisterous priestess's electric eyes. The energy in such orbs was astounding, almost static as if it was a direct window gazing downward toward the center of her soul. Such a feature was rare, yet exceedingly harmful in its own way. In such a manner one could always tell what said person was feeling or thinking. The power she held titillated him; it was like a drug, his addiction. The sensation he underwent every time their contrasting auras sparked together in their polar opposite attraction was simply divine yet indefinable in a way that would do it general justice. It was simply....euphoric, that was the closest he could come to his mark, and although he was foreign to such sensations when the opportunity presented itself he was loathe to give it up. There were very few, even among demonic society, that held such a well of raw power, but it was to be expected seeing as she had been the one to firstly unhinge and wield his formidable father's sword. Yet, he never dwelt on that matter for too long an interval, for the fact of the matter was that his pride was still smarting from the blow.

His bumbling hanyou half-sibling was unworthy of the girl's affections. The boy acted as a pup constantly scorning and fumbling around the apron strings of his mother, relying upon her to cook, clean and direct. Not only was the boy unworthy, but he was not so subtly oblivious. Spending a good portion of each day resenting the living onna that he had at his beckon call and pining away after a wretched undead wench. He himself had investigated the bitch and found nothing in the least pleasing about her; it was a wonder to him that his brother could stand the stench of such a being. Fumes of death and dead, deteriorating flesh rose from the clay corpse like smoke from a kindling fire, perhaps somewhat distracting an onlooker from the woman's gaunt complexion. Such flesh as was peeling across the arms, legs and torso in great curled scrolls, falling away of their own accord, each drawing closer and closer to revealing the brittle bones structure underneath. Greasy dark brown hair crowned a pinched face with a focal point of lifeless chocolate eyes, seconded only by drained thin lips. Ribs quite traceable under the stained white blouse she donned, it was a bare fact that the undead woman's aura was not even a quarter of the one presented by the living maiden. And yet the miserable soul found it necessary to remain on earth for some vengeful mission targeting his kin. Though it was not as if he cared in the least what became of Inuyasha, it would be quite a shame to see him felled by a creature that sustained itself on a constant flow of departing souls. The girl's inexorable sense of loyalty and duty were wasted upon such a mindless, unfaithful being as his half brother.

Straightening his normally perfectly postured spine and feeling his weighted shoulder blade pop and align itself correctly once again he sneered, feeling his stomach turn at his own choice of wording, 'unfaithful'. Hm, he had been young when his despicable father had taken up and left his mother for his damnable human lover. Yet, he had been old enough to clearly remember how broken she had been. He had been old enough to remember the heart wrenching sobs that echoed through her warded wing of the castle. But mostly, he had been old enough to make a promise, a promise to both himself and his mother which he fully intended to keep: once he took a mate, he would have no other. No whore, concubine, servant or mistress would be taken to his bed. No, he would be explicitly faithful for all of his days, for although he was cold, he was not heartless. Besides, he was an inu and loyalty was painted in his blood. His father had been hasty and impulsive during his search for a mate, he would not make that mistake.

He was never one prone to dishing out compliments, it simply wasn't in his nature yet pleasantries aside one fact remained: there was only one male worthy of such a prize as the shikon miko and that male was most certainly not his floundering sibling. No, the girl did not need another dependant latching itself to her hip in the manner of a leech as would surely be done in such a case; even if the half breed had reciprocated the romantic notions of the onna, in the stead of fantasizing about a being formed of earth and clay he would not have allowed the match to proceed. His verdict was simple, she was his. She had always been his and would always be his, only his. He had simply needed some time to work out a few minor details of the union.

The foremost of such details was, expectedly, the young woman's humanity. He refused to allow her to leave him whether it be of death or of her own accord. No, she would stay bound to him forever as his one and only lover and companion. She would be his bitch, his whore, his lover, his partner, his slut, his queen, his little one, his mate. And he, in turn, would be her world. Her everything would be centered about him, around him would be the sole revolution of her happiness, the complete makings of her being. That was how it was to work, any objections she had be damned. Upon the start, the task of conquering mortality such as it had been contemplated by humans from the beginning of time had seemed insurmountable. However, he was a clever demon, not a foolish mortal bumbling over some old volumes of ridiculous folk lore found in a corner pawn shop. No, it hadn't been nearly as difficult a task as he had anticipated.

Several months of solicitous study within the ancient cavern of the western library perusing tome after tome of recordings had yielded a sensible answer. According to the thirteenth historical text of the west and the recordings of some distant relation of his, a human could be gifted with the life span as well of the aging cycle of a youkai under the circumstances that blood of a demonic partner was shared during the first sexual endeavor. Such a process would work only once, for completion could only be had upon the taking of the designated maiden's virgin blood. Thankfully, he knew the miko to be a virgin, she was far too much of an innocent to be at all sexually experienced, thus saving giving him the pleasure of being her first and only lover as well as making the extermination of any previous partners unnecessary. The second issue had been much more direct yet also related to the plight of her mortality - hanyous. Being such as he was, he simply refused to produce Halflings. Yet, that issue too had been resolved by the thirteenth text, informing him by way of script that a power miko could easily birth fully demonic offspring.

Astute as he was, the inu lord of the west had already given a great deal of thought to the matter. Each morning the onna would awaken in the protective shelter of his arms, knowing that it would extremely ill advised to leave the mating bed without his consent. Once he deemed it an appropriate hour, she would then proceed to groom and dress him to his satisfaction before they journeyed to the dining hall to take a hot breakfast. Thusly they would retreat to his grandiose study; the girl would sit at his feet and entertain herself with a text of some sort while he completed any work his station might have to offer that day. Time would elapse in such a manner until noon, when they would turn to the kitchens for a cold lunch before strolling through the back garden discussing any topic he so chose. The remaining hours before the day's final meal would vary in activity depending upon what ordeal had presented itself following toward but not limited to travel, socialization, pleasantries and meditation. Each night they would retire to his personal chambers to spend the night in such a manner as could be perversely expected.

She would be treated like a queen, his queen. Upon her he would bestow the finest, smoothest silks toned with the most unobtainable of dyes and drape the softest of pelts. Anything she wished for would be hers, jewels, perhaps some small sapphires to accent her eyes or a silver chain, feasts, merriment. It was all at her whim. He would give the girl everything the half breed could never supply, could never even dream of. Soon she would realize which of the siblings was truly superior. After all what were the hanyou's rugged features and sloppily trimmed hair comparable to his own regal countenance and shinning strands? What was the boy's brash combat style to his own ritual elegance? In what manner was the imbecile's insipid temper superior to his stoic nature? None, the answer was none.

There would of course be certain rules set to govern her, the first of which being that she would be expressly forbidden to seek the company of another, be it for intercourse or a simple discussion of the day's weather. No, her charms were to be enjoyed by him alone, no other would gain the favorable grace of her presence. Aware as he was of the woman's argumentative nature he would make it known that at no time would she contradict him or speak against him in public, or for that matter in private without having been given his leave. At all times she would assume the mannerisms appropriate for a lady of her new station. He expected nothing less than perfection. Negligence to these or any other structures he may adhere in the future would result in punishment. A punishment the likes of which the disillusioned girl had never known.

Letting the coming scent of dawn hoist him once again into the confines of the tangible world, Sesshomaru allowed his honeyed orbs to dart quickly over the gradually lightening scenery before turning an about-face and retreating back within the hollow of his bed chambers. Keen vision taking in the twisted mass of silks and linens toppling from the surface of his futon, the lord momentarily considered trying for another hour of rest but quickly dissolved the idea under the pretense of futility. Heaving a sigh, he walked instead to the plush armchair angled towards the cold hearth and sat himself with his ever present perfection of posture. Months of preparation and weeks of brooding had led him to this day, the day on which he would bring to the palace moon his intended. Yet, somehow he knew that this last hour before he called himself to action would be the most drawn out of all, seeming like an eternity as the sun slowly crept across the horizon. Patient, he was not but perhaps if he could fool time itself into believing as much the moments would fly more swiftly. Allowing himself the penance of the back support, the silver haired entity folded his one clawed hand upon his lap, closed his golden eyes and waited in mock patience for the sun to rise fully, mind still flying through the possibilities such a day could hold. Soon he told himself, soon.

A/N: Well, that was the first chapter. I'm well aware that it was neither very exciting or well written but please hang in there until I post the next (which should be in a week or so, perhaps sooner). Thanks again!

 

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