A Smell So Sweet by BelovedStranger

Maiden Sacrifice

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

REVISED as of 2025!!

Alternate Universe!

This oneshot collection is a series of unrelated short stories—unless otherwise specified. The collection was created for Stella Mira’s Spicy Challenge.

Chapter Prompt: Saffron.

This story is completely different from its original storyline, but the premise is the same, with the prompt “saffron” being used as an aphrodisiac. Also, the title has changed.

This collection is dedicated to Stella Mira.

P.S. The revisions have no benefit of a beta. Apologies for any typos!!

CONTENT WARNING!!: Mild Dom/sub Undertones; Mild Degradation—mostly verbal; Cock Deep-Throating/Gagging; Light Rough Play

Word Count: 5,156

Glossary:

Kitsune—Fox Spirit

Miko-dono—Lady Priestess

Youkai—Daemon

Inuyoukai—Dog Daemon

Glossary:

Yukata—Bathing Clothing

Kitsune—Fox Spirit

Miko-dono—Lady Priestess

Youkai—Daemon

Inuyoukai—Dog Daemon

Ningen—Human

THE SCENT IN the air was intoxicating.

Kagome’s breath stuttered in her lungs when she felt gentle hands on her shoulders, but she didn’t protest when the two women who, standing on either side of her, began lowering her yukata. The fabric was snow white, as soft as silk. And costly despite its simplicity. Never before had her body been embraced by anything so luxurious; though, she’d only been permitted to wear it for the time it had taken to walk from the bathing chamber to the ceremonial hot spring.

The two women—kitsune youkai, she sensed—had just finished assisting her in the bathing ritual, where they’d cleansed her body with the utmost gentleness and professionalism, before massaging a heavenly scented oil into her skin, and through her long, black tresses. They’d not only washed the thick, waist length mane, but had used their fox magic to dry her hair in seconds without damaging a single strand. Afterwards, her hair had been secured atop her head with two gold crusted sticks inlaid with what she suspected to be priceless gems.

She shivered as the yukata ghosted down her arms and back, the sensation surprisingly pleasant, yet her muscles ached with tension. Afflicted by a wave of modesty, she closed her eyes when her only covering was taken away, leaving her fully exposed. Vulnerable. Though the two youkai did nothing threatening, she felt…caged. Trapped.

By circumstance.

By duty.

She shivered despite the heated air.

“Be at ease, miko-dono. My lord has never treated one of his women unkindly. Indeed, you may even find the experience more than satisfactory,” one of the kitsune told her softly, obviously sensing her anxiety.

Unable to speak, all Kagome could do was nod her head in thanks, and nearly jumped out of her skin when one of the women touched her arm, before guiding her to the steaming pool. She was forced to open her eyes or trip. The moment she was seated in the spring, the water rising just above her breasts, her muscles relaxed on their own volition, the temperature hot but not uncomfortably so. It was soothing—decedent.

Her eyes slid closed, enjoying the rare indulgence despite her trepidation. She was accustomed to cold baths in the river, completed in haste. During one of her infrequent journeys from her small village, she’d stumbled upon a natural hot spring, which had turned into her one—and only—guilty pleasure that she’d shared with no one. To simply enjoy a bath was an extravagance that was beyond her modest way of life.

She was a miko, residing in a humble village. She was their healer, their protector against evil spirits and youkai bent on harm. In a way, her being here now—delighting in a hot bath—had become part of her sacred duty.

Hearing a sound, Kagome opened her eyes to see one of the serving maids pouring something off-white into the water with her, while the other was sprinkling something red and stringy.

“What is that?”

The scent reached her before the one pouring from the gold urn answered. “Milk mixed with honey.”

“And saffron,” the second added, adding more of the red spice into the water.

She blinked, astonished. Saffron went for an exorbitant price. Never had she tasted of the spice, and this was the first she’d ever smelled it. Unable to help herself, she breathed deeply, appreciating its rich earthiness. A thick, velvet musk, with an undertone of leather and hay left out to be warmed by the sun. She, also, detected the sweetness of the honeyed milk, carried to her by the steam.

As the air left her lungs on a deep exhalation, her apprehension followed, and Kagome found herself reclining against the smooth rocks. But something else was happening. She felt it. A heat rising low in her belly that wasn’t caused by the temperature of the spring. She was relaxed, her body pliant yet hot, her blood surging through her veins strangely, her nerves tingling.

“Here, miko-dono. Drink this.”

Almost lazily, Kagome opened her eyes to stare up at the kneeling women, whose hair was a deep orange, her eyes flashing like green gems. There was a smile upon her lips, as though she were pleased by something Kagome did not understand. And in her delicate hands, the fingers tipped with deadly claws, the kitsune held a small cup filled with a white liquid.

The serving women must have seen the question on her face, for she added, “It is the same as what has been poured into your bath. Warm milk mixed with honey and saffron. Taste,” she encouraged, holding the cup closer. “It will further ease you, while opening your senses to enhance your experience.”

It seemed like the most natural thing to tilt her head back when the cup’s rim was pressed to her lips and drink deeply of the offering. The warm milk was smooth as it slid down her throat, the flavor blossoming across her tongue pleasantly. Addicting.

“Hmm,” she hummed, appreciative.

“It is not good to have too much, but you can have a little more if you’d like, miko-dono.”

“Yes,” she accepted readily, licking her lips in anticipation, and was disappointed when the second seemed to go down faster than the first, wishing she’d savored it more.

The heat she’d felt thrumming through her body suddenly expanded, thickening, morphing into a dull throb centered at her core. Rousing her body in ways she couldn’t understand. Her pulse pulsated through her veins, between her thighs. Alarmed, Kagome surged upright, and realized she was panting. There was this new…awareness. An anticipation. But for what she could not name, yet she wanted. Yearned. For something.

Her hand went to her mouth. “What did you…give me?” She wanted to feel horrified, yet all she felt was a deep ache, a need that demanded attention. Satisfaction.

“Be not alarmed. What you are experiencing is natural.”

“What—” she had to swallow before she could continue, her mouth oddly dry, “—is it?”

“Desire. The spice allows one to experience passion without inhibitions.”

“You drugged me.” Why wasn’t she more alarmed than she was? A side effect?

“You have been unburdened,” the kitsune corrected, voice gentle. “Tell me, miko-dono. Have you come here, to my lord, of your own choosing?”

“It is my duty.”

“But are you willing?”

A willing sacrifice. “Yes,” she breathed, feeling relaxed but too hot. She hungered. Thirst. So, this was desire?

“Whatever transpires within this chamber will be of your choosing. Anything you desire, it is yours for the asking. You are in command here, miko-dono, and if you’ve a change of heart—at any moment—you have but to say the word. My lord seeks your comfort. Your pleasure, as well as his own. He would never force you in any way.”

“Then why the aphrodisiac since I am willing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Even with her eyes closed, Kagome could hear the smile in the kitsune’s suddenly playful voice. “You came for duty. My lord recognizes your sacrifice and would honour you with a gift. The freedom to experience passion, unfettered. Your desire, your submission, will not be abused, this I can promise you.”

“We must leave you now,” the other youkai murmured. “My lord will be here soon.”

Then all was silent, and Kagome knew she was alone, having sensed the two kitsune withdraw. How long she reclined in the hot spring, her head pillowed on a folded cloth behind her, she could not say. It felt like seconds, and hours.

Then she sensed it.

A youkai.

But it wasn’t either of the two kitsune. It was him. She wasn’t sure how she knew. She’d never seen him before, had never been in his presence, but when she opened her eyes, her gaze drawn to the towering figure, she knew she beheld the one the serving women had referred to as their lord.

He was easily the tallest man she’d ever laid eyes upon. But then, he wasn’t a man. Not really.

The first thing she noticed was the amber fire of his eyes, the pupils black slits. Inhuman. Captivating. His skin was alabaster white, causing his daemon markings to stand out. They were striking. He was striking. Two magenta lines slashed across his high cheekbones, while a cerulean crescent moon graced his forehead. Then he blinked those feline eyes, revealing that his eyelids were the same hue as the marks along his cheeks.

And his hair. It was silver. In the light cast by the tall candle scones, the long tresses shimmered like starlight with flecks of gold. It fell like a waterfall down his back, with silver tresses spilled over the broad width of his shoulders and down his chest. It was impossibly long, reaching down to mid-calf, and following the silvery trail brought her attention to the rest of him.

And like her, he was fully unclothed. She should feel embarrassed. Shy.

It wasn’t the first time she’d seen a nude man. She was a healer, after all, but never had she seen someone like him, and never had she been anything but appropriately attired when in the company of another.

She stared at him, unabashed. Her gaze traced the muscles of his chest, her mouth going dry at the toned definition of his abdomen, before her heart stuttered at the intriguing V-line that pointed down—to his groin. And despite her chastity, she understood that he was not only happy to see her, but pleased by what he saw.

He was impossible to be real. He was—

“Beautiful,” she breathed, her voice husky. Thick—with desire.

She wanted him, and in her open state of being, she could be honest with herself. Her attraction towards the inuyoukai had nothing to do with the saffron and everything to do with him. Did that make her shallow to appreciate a well-formed man—ah, daemon?

Did it matter? He was here. For her.

There was no feeling of trepidation, only anticipation.

“You are mistaken, miko. You are the vision, not I. May I join you?”

“Yes?”

At the questioning note in her voice, he grinned, flashing fangs. It should have terrified her, those fangs. Instead, the devilish smirk sent her heart to pounding.

“Yes?” he mirrored, voice a low, deep timbre that caused shivers down her spine.

“Do that again,” she moaned.

“Do what?”

“Speak. Talk.” Her own voice had gone hoarse. “I—I like the sound. Of your voice. It makes me feel…”

Suddenly, he was stepping into the pool, which brought attention to his hips as that part of him bounced. The thickness, the length, was shocking. Rather than frightening her, she felt her core clench on a wave of desire, and even submerged as she was, she felt it. A surge of moisture coating her sex in what she new to be her own arousal.

She’d felt it before over the years, stirrings of desire. But not like this. This was intense, almost painful.

Then both of his feet were in the water. “Yes, miko? What do you feel? How do I make you feel?”

Her next exhalation came out on a trembling sigh. “Good,” she whispered. “Too good. It’s like your voice is touching me.”

He approached her, his stride long but languid. His presence commanded her attention. “Do you long for my touch?”

There was no room for lies, only honesty. Only desire. “Yes.”

“How?”

“I…don’t know.”

“Has anyone ever touched you before?”

“No.” Then she frowned, the question pulling her from her heated daze, if slightly. “I’ve never... If you are concerned…” So strong was her embarrassment, it tainted her arousal. With insecurities. With doubts. “I meet all qualifications as your sacrifice,” she whispered.

The urge to look down was overpowered by a flare of excitement when he was just suddenly…there. He stood before her, and in her seated position, the impressive length of him was suddenly inches from her face. She was vaguely aware that he straddled her legs.

“What qualifications do you believe I desire in a sacrifice?”

Kagome licked suddenly dry lips, distracted. An image filled her mind with the urge to lean forward and lick him, to open her mouth and let him…sink into her. She blinked rapidly, not knowing where the thought had come from. Surely, people didn’t actually do…that?

But she wanted to.

And hadn’t the kitsune told her that she could do anything she desired? What if she craved him? His shaft. Filling her mouth. His taste flooding her tongue, then wondered what he would taste like. Would he be sweet, like honey? Or spiced?

What had he asked?

“A maiden.” She didn’t feel like one, though she was. He made her think impure thoughts. Made her feel wanton.

“You have been lied to.”

It took Kagome a moment to understand. When she did, she jerked her gaze up his body, up the definition of his abdominal muscles, over his pecs, to be captured by smoldering amber.

“I don’t understand,” she murmured. It was becoming harder to concentrate. On his words. On speaking. She was overheated, her secret flesh wet and swollen.

“My only requirement of a sacrifice is that she be miko.”

Confusion pinched her brows. “Miko are maidens.”

“Why?”

The question surprised her. “It has always been so.”

“That does not answer why?” he insisted, voice soft, gentle, yet compelling. “By whose authority are you so bound?”

“I…don’t know.”

The youkai shook his head, never taking his eyes from her, and Kagome couldn’t look away from the open honesty she saw reflected back at her. “Ningen society has a strange fixation with controlling the mating habits of others. Whom you may lie with, in what circumstance you are granted permission, and so on. It is not so with youkai.”

“Do youkai encourage...transient relations?”

He grinned. With that flash of fang, this ethereal creature stole another part of her heart. “That is an entirely other matter from the former.”

An awful thought flooded her mind. Inexplicably, Kagome was overcome with the feeling of being lesser, for having come to such an otherworldly being as she was. A maiden. Untutored in the art of sexual relations, of being ignorant on the giving of pleasure. Her inadequacies shamed her. “You don’t want me.”

He titled his head, causing his silver tresses to glide enticingly along the contours of his body. Distracting her from a sudden welling of distress.

“Look at me, miko.” His voice had deepened with heat, in command.

When she blinked up at him, surprised, he gestured downward with a tilt of his chin, bringing her attention lower. Much lower. To his straining length. Before her enrapt stare, he thickened harder, growing impossibly larger. Everything feminine within her quivered.

Her lips parted, panting. The urge she’d had just a moment before returned with a vengeance, making her mouth water for the merest taste.

“Does it appear as though I do not want you?”

“No, but—”

“Silence.”

The command was issued without a hint of anger, yet the authority of his tone and regal bearing was unmistakable. Her core clenched so hard she gasped, her thighs clamping together as she bit back a helpless whimper.

“What is your name?”

It took her a moment to speak, to think. “Kagome.”

“Kagome.” His voice. His tone. The whimper she’d held back spilled past her lips. “That you are a maiden does not make you less desirable. I. Desire. You.”

Then he did something obscene. He gripped himself, his long fingers curling around his shaft and pumped, from base to tip. She saw him squeeze himself. Arousal stabbed her, fierce and deep, taking her breath away, stealing her sanity, leaving nothing but need. Desire.

“Every inch of me yearns to be inside of you,” he rasped. “To be clasped within the tight haven of your body.”

She watched him stroke himself again, and when his grip stopped just beneath the thick, round head, she watched—transfixed—as a pearl of liquid formed at the tip, a thick bead that called to her. Demanding she lean forward and—

“What do you desire, Kagome? What are you thinking this very moment?”

“To taste you.” Voice husky, she couldn’t look away from his shaft, from that enticing droplet.

“Then open your mouth, and taste.”

He gripped himself, angling his cock…and Kagome surged forward, coming to her knees within the hot spring. She did what he commanded, what she desired. She opened her mouth, her tongue leading the way, and moaned. In one, long swipe, she lapped up that thick droplet and swallowed. He tasted better than honey, spicier than saffron. He was decadent.

Just as she’d wanted more of the sweetened milk, she wanted more—of him. This time, she begged for it. “More.”

“Take what you need from me.” A husky offering, another command.

And Kagome took. Lifting her hands from the water, she gripped his thick thighs, unabashed, as she lapped at him, licking and swirling her tongue around the head, and moaned again as another bead of liquid wept from the tip.

“Yes, Kagome. So sweet. Do you want more?”

She nodded her head, whimpering. Licking.

“Then part your lips. Wider. Let me feed my cock into that hot little mouth.”

There was no question that she’d obey. She opened as wide as she could, and groaned as he stuffed himself into her mouth, filling her so completely she worried her teeth would scrape against him. Would that hurt him? Would he make her stop?

At the thought of his cock being taken from her, she leaned forward with more eagerness than finesse, and nearly choked. He was so big he hit the back of her throat and there was still more to be had, and she mourned that she could not take more. Or could she? Maybe if she… The back of her tongue relaxed, which opened her throat. And it was the most natural thing in the world to lean forward, to push just a little bit, and felt his cock slide down her throat in one smooth glide.

Perhaps it was the aphrodisiac making her more receptive to her wants, releasing her tension to allow her to take him in this way, but once she had started, she couldn’t stop.

And her inuyoukai seemed to understand her need. She felt him grip the bun of her hair, secured at the back of her head, in one large hand, felt him thrust into her mouth, gently. In the same motion, he pulled her head towards him until the wide spread of her lips touched his pubic mound, the silver hairs tickling her nose.

Then he began to fuck her, using her mouth in slow, deep thrusts. He teased her, withdrawing all but the tip until she was desperate for him to fill her mouth again—when he did. Pumping into her until he breached her throat, sinking himself fully within until she couldn’t breathe. Then he repeated the erotic rhythm. The hand at the back her head held her securely, and when she became accustomed to the size of him, of the feel of him in her throat, she felt him speed up.

He was rougher. Pulling her towards him, making her feel the power of his grip, of his command over her body—of her pleasure. It was messy, her saliva dribbling down her chin, coating his cock. The sounds she made. Slurping, sucking. Wet sounds. Until she gagged. The first time was slight, and she eagerly lunged forward, wanting to experience it again. To be totally used, consumed. Like this.

Then she gagged again. She felt his grip tighten, felt him pull her hair with a bite of pain that sent a thrill of excitement between her thighs. Arousal leaked from her swollen folds, dripped down her thighs as he just held her there, her lips and nose pressed to his groin, with his length shoved deep. Choking her on his cock until her throat convulsed around him.

It was everything she hadn’t realized she’d needed—craved. Then he was dragging her off his cock, pulling her head back until he popped free, but he wouldn’t let her close her mouth. No. With his free hand, he hooked his thumb against the inside of her cheek, and gently pulled.

It should have been humiliating. Degrading. Yet she felt powerful, especially when he forced to her to meet the hunger in his daemonic eyes. The sclera had bled crimson, the irises glowing a brilliant blue.

“Good girl.” His voice came out a growl, sending shivers down her spine, while his praise did something to her. Her excitement heightened, and she felt wanted. Desired. Cherished.

“You’d let me use your mouth until I came, wouldn’t you? Until my seed flooded your throat, filling your belly.”

His words thrilled her, made her moan, her head nodding desperately. Yes, yes!

“Yes, I see the way you’re looking at me. Hungry for my cock. You want to be my drooling little mess, don’t you?”

Again, she nodded. The fact that he kept her mouth spread open with his thumb in her mouth only deepened her desire. This craving, this need. Was it always supposed to be like this? All-consuming.

“Anything you desire, it is yours. But later. Right now, I desire you.” She watched his nostrils flare, the crimson in his gaze intensifying. “I scent your arousal. On your feet.” With a gentle tug on her cheek, Kagome eagerly rose to her feet, her knees trembling. In want. Then he was releasing her. In one, quick move, she found herself in his arms, his hands under her thighs, spreading her legs, making a place for himself within the cradle of her body, and Kagome tightened her thighs around his hips, anticipation thrumming through her overly heated body.

Her nipples were hard little points as they scraped against his muscular chest. She moaned, and rubbed herself against him.

Then he was kissing her. Her first. It was no gentle melding. He ate at her mouth, his tongue pushing its way inside. Surprising her. Then a flood of arousal gushed from her core. She felt empty. Needy.

Desperate, she clawed at his shoulders, mewling against his mouth as her hips gyrated against him of their own accord. The feel of his cock against her aching folds sent Kagome into a frenzy, and when she felt her youkai release her left thigh and reach between their bodies, a guttural moan left her sore throat, understanding the sensation for what it was: he was pressing the wide head of his cock against her entrance. Her body wept for him.

Then he was pulling back. When she tried to follow, desperate for his mouth on hers, the taste of his tongue, he leaned back further, saying, “Look at me.”

She did. From inches away, she saw something that wasn’t human staring back at her from the depths of his daemonic eyes. A shiver went down her spine, but not from fear. The markings along his cheekbones had become jagged, his fangs too long for him to fully close his mouth. He was beastly. Instead of frightening her, it added to his appeal.

“Sesshomaru. That is my name. Say it.”

The Killing Perfection.

His name was a warning. She’d already gleamed that he was dangerous, and she didn’t doubt that he more than lived up to his name.

“Sesshomaru.”

He pressed into her, and she felt the shocking sensation of the wide head spreading her entrance. Then he paused, hesitating. She didn’t want him to stop. He was killing her. She needed him deeper, so much so she hurt.

Before she could voice her demand, his words penetrated the lustful fog that enveloped her. “Forgive me for the pain.”

Yes, he was hurting her, but oh so sweetly. She tried to tell him so when she felt him. All of him. With a powerful surge of his hips, his palms gripping her ass, he thrust inside her while simultaneously dragging her down his shaft. He spread her, forced her to take every inch of him inside of her.

There was a stab of pain, a sensation of fullness. He was too deep. Too thick. Too much! She choked on her next breath, unable to breathe for how incredibly stuffed she felt. He pierced her clear to her womb. She felt him, behind her naval. So deep inside, her mind couldn’t comprehend where he began and she ended. They were one. Fused. And there, he held still, an impossible presence.

“Breathe, Kagome. That’s it. Good girl,” he praised when she gasped, before dragging in another lungful of air, only to release her next exhalation on a hiss. “Just keep breathing. The pain will pass.”

Her hands tightened around the thickness of his shoulders, blunt nails digging in. The pain had breached the fog of arousal, and words poured from her. She was spread so open. Her body. Her mind. Her heart.

“Why are your sacrifices miko?”

She felt him wrap his arms around her, as though he were…cradling her, even as he stretched her beyond her limits. Her arms went around his neck, and—her eyes closed—she felt him press his forehead against hers. She felt the tension in him and wondered at what it cost him to hold still, to allow her to grow accustomed to the size of him.

“Because I am a beast.”

His answer surprised her. She opened her eyes and saw him staring back at her. As though he could see into her very soul. It did crazy things to her heart.

“I am youkai. An entity of wild, animalistic energy. It builds and builds inside of me. Only bloodlust and war can satiate the volatile spirit contained within—or, during sex. In the sharing of passion. Of desire.” He breathed deeply, his chest pressing against her breasts, making her aware of their nakedness in ways she hadn’t noticed before in her lustful haze. “The female youkai population has been decimated by a recent war that had devastated the Western Lands, but it had, also, brought temporary peace.”

“And now you don’t have a means of release,” she whispered, blushing at her provocative choice of words.

“Yes,” he groaned with a jerk of his hips. The motion seemed uncontrolled as he ground himself inside of her.

He made another sound, an animalistic bark, and Kagome moaned. Pain and pleasure sizzling across her senses. The scent of honey, of saffron, mixed with the scent of this daemon was compelling. Leaning in, Kagome buried her nose against his neck, breathing in the heady scent that was all him, and felt her core clench around his hardness.

He jerked against her a second time, pressing hard against her. Inside her. They both groaned, and Kagome felt the tension leave her on a wave of need, of an ache for something she could not name. But she sensed that Sesshomaru knew what she needed. What they both needed. Unable to stop herself, she swiveled her hips, and felt him swirl her insides, which sent a shard of pleasure through her core.

“Miko,” he ground out between clenched fangs. “Cease moving, or I cannot control what I may do next.”

That he needed her so desperately that he would lose control should have frightened her, but didn’t. Instead, the prospect was thrilling.

Moving her lips until she could whisper against his ear, the tip pointed, intriguing her, she asked again, “Why a miko? We are few. Why one of us when you could turn to any ningen woman?”

“Because you are strong,” he growled, and she felt his claws digging into her hips where he gripped her. The sting of pain made her hiss and her core spasm around him again. He thrust, a shallow movement. He pulled back the barest few inches before thrusting back in, hard.

She moaned, he snarled, his tension mounting. She could feel it, his muscles bunching, preparing. Her heart beat in anticipation, waiting, breathless for when he finally snapped.

“If I were to lose control, if I were to slip for even a moment, I know that a miko—you—can protect herself.”

“I could purify you.” The thought made her tense, to worry.

“You could try,” he snorted, before pumping in and out of her again, causing them both to gasp. “I am not some lesser daemon, easily defeated, let alone purified. But,” he began moving, fucking her. “You can hurt me. Burn me. And stop me from hurting you. With you, it is…”

“Safe,” she moaned, understanding. Tightening her thighs, she tried to impale herself on him, harder.

Sesshomaru gnashed her teeth, his hands tightening, and Kagome knew she would be bruised. Welcomed it—his mark.

“Then take me,” she choked when he hit the end of her. “Fuck me. Like you need. Like I need. I need you, Sesshomaru.”

He didn’t need further encouragement. She felt him leave her, until only the thick head spread her. She mewled at the sudden, awful emptiness. Then he was there, filling her. Spreading her. He fucked her, using her hips for leverage as he stabbed himself inside her, taking her hard. Fast.

It was brutal. Rough. It was ecstasy.

Kagome became a wild thing, clawing at him, crying out in sheer delight. Then she screamed as she reached a high precipice, and was shoved off the edge. And into rapture. He didn’t give her a moment’s reprieve as he continued to use her body, fucking her through her convulsions, until she was right on that ledge again, and over.

Climax claimed her, blinding her. Stealing her senses until all she could feel was him—and need.

As he fucked her, she spoke between gasps of pleasure and moans of agonized bliss. “What happens to the sacrifice? After. After…this?”

His answer was spoken between brutal snarls and guttural groans. “She is returned safely to her people.”

“Do they ever see you again?”

Please, let me see you again, she thought, clinging to him with hands and thighs, her core clenching around him as though she would never let him go.

She didn’t realize she’d spoken her desperate plea out loud until he answered. “Never has a sacrifice wanted to see me again. To stay. They performed their duty. And left.”

At his words, her heart clenched. She sensed it. The loneliness inside him. It called to the loneliness within herself.

“And if I choose to stay.”

“Then you.” His next thrust was brutal, making her cry out. “Are.” Another savage thrust. “Mine!”

At his possessive declaration, Kagome was hurdled into another orgasm, screaming—his name. When she felt it. His fangs. Piercing her shoulder. Before exploding inside her. His seed was hot, flooding her with his essence. Claiming her as his.

His maiden sacrifice.